


The Stars in the Pages

by CuriouslyCheekyCheye



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Abuse, Add characters as they come, Adding character tags prematurely, Angst, As written by a stutterer, Child Abuse, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Don't copy to another site, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, It Gets Better, Not shipping oc with kh character, Pre-Kingdom Hearts I, Stuttering, You like descriptions of nature? You'll like this, no beta we die like men, updates are sporadic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2020-07-23 20:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20014177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriouslyCheekyCheye/pseuds/CuriouslyCheekyCheye
Summary: Some days she wants to set these pages ablaze, but she knows it won't make a difference. After all, it's not the book that tells the future. It's her.Lilac Sien is a child born with the weight of an unknown and unwanted purpose on her shoulders. A child who dreams of the world outside. She dreams of the grass scratching her feet and the winds pulling her hair into disarray. Of nature's music in her ears and the light of the moon and sun reflected in her eyes. The hands of her loved ones clenched within her own.These walls may keep her caged for now, but not forever.Not if she can do anything about it.





	1. Pick up the book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my Kingdom Hearts oc. I'm kinda nervous on how she'll be received, cause she kinda looks like a Mary Sue, but I didn't want her to look like every other oc out there. I figure if I'm making her unique then sky's the limit, right?

The halls of the manor flood yellow with the mid-morning light, pouring in from between white curtains and onto cold blue walls. The breeze made the curtains sway and brought with it the scent of the flowers planted outside.

Small feet scurry across the floor, clad in pastel pink slippers with little bows. They twist around corners and hopped over stairs, leaving an equally pink dress to flutter behind them. Above them, two thin arms wave wildly on either side of a tiny huffing chest and sleeves trail everywhere they went. Curly pastel purple hair bounces and flies around in the air like it has a mind of its own. Sparkling pink eyes -made even brighter by childish excitement- slide across everything they see, looking for the best hiding space. Tiny teeth chew on thin lips, trying to stop their owner from giggling. It isn’t working very well.

“Lilac! Come back here this instant!”

Large and heavy footsteps follow her smaller and quieter ones, but they are still a room away from the child. She stops by the dining table and crawls under the table cloth. Once in the middle of the table, she curls up and covers her mouth. It helped muffles the giggles a little better than just biting her bottom lip.

It doesn’t help the child hide from her nanny, though.

A hand lifts the edge of the cloth and reveals her very angry nanny. A suddenly not as giggly Lilac can tell she’s mad because her face is as red as the vase her mother likes. Lilac lets out a tiny shriek as her arm is grabbed and she’s dragged out from under the table, just like that. Lilac stumbles to her feet. “Ow ow ow!”

“You nasty little girl!” Nanny Abi scolds. “You do not run in the house, you do not abandon your work, and you do not disobey me!” Each ‘do not’ is accompanied by a yank on her arm. Lilac squeaks and tries to pull away, but her nanny is already marching out of the room. Lilac in tow, of course.

Lilac whines, “I-I want-ted t-to pl-l-lay...” It’s not her fault her room is boring, and the work is hard. It was all light colors, hard words, and her nanny’s impatient stares in there. So what if she wanted to have some fun and run around outside? She didn’t even make it to the front door this time, so there’s no reason for the woman to be so mad!

"Your hair is a mess!" Lilac yelps when her nanny yanked on her arm again and she is wrestled back to her room. "Now I have to fix it and we’ll waste more time you should have been using to study!”

Lilac bites her tongue. Telling Nanny Abi that she'd been studying since she woke up wouldn’t help her now, not when her nanny looked close to spitting fire. No, it's better to be quiet now, she decides.

The five-year-old tries to think of anything but the endless boredom awaiting her. The flowers she’s been dying to see planted in the gardens. The pretty butterfly that flew into the study window once. Even the scary painting of a man carrying a dead deer in the dining room.

Lilac doesn’t get why her parents and nanny want her to study so much. All she does all day is sit in a dusty room with a book in her lap, copying down words until her eyes roll in her head. If she isn’t in the study then Lilac’s in her room, being dressed up and having her unmaintainable locks pulled back painfully into elaborate braids.

All anyone would say when she asked, is that she is Lilac Sien, daughter of Oak and Delilah Sien and the ‘Sien-Family-Seer-to-be’. And she’s searched all the bookshelves she could reach and read all the books she could understand, but none of those could explain what that means or why those facts were so important.

But that doesn’t matter right now. They’ve reached her room and while the child sits before her vanity Nanny Abi starts combing her hair. Each pull hurts as much as it did this morning. Lila whines but doesn’t clench her hands in the fabric other dress. If she wrinkles it any more the woman's head might really explode. When she’s done Lilac turns around and watches her, waiting for her to speak

Nanny Abi is an evil witch, just like in the storybooks Lilac reads under her covers. A tall and thin woman, as sour as a lemon and her hair just as yellow. Her blue eyes are old as ice and her wrinkled skin pulls her face into an ugly snarl. She tolerates no joy in life and would probably sing if happiness and laughter were banned from existence. Lilac hates her.

But what could she do? Nanny Abi rules over Lilac’s every action and her parents think the woman’s a blessing sent from heaven to tame their unruly and too-curious-for-her-own-good daughter. Lilac can’t even say anything against her because she’s a kid and Nanny Abi is an adult. The staff think she’s being a spoilt brat and her parents tell her to stop making a big deal out of it and go back to her room. If she persists then they use her stuttering against her, cutting in and telling her to be quiet.

Nanny Abi clears her throat. Lilac glances at her again and swallows. She must have noticed Lilac drifting off. “I leave to retrieve a book from the study and you immediately run away. Although I had given you clear orders to practice your words for the day.” The child very specifically does not look at the pile of papers lying on the desk.

“As it’s hard for you to follow the simplest of instructions,” She continues, glaring down her nose at Lilac. “I will make it easy. You will be spending the next three days here, learning why it’s necessary to follow orders, why you shouldn’t disobey them, and why running away from your responsibility is not acceptable behavior.”

Nanny Abi straightens up, “Food will be delivered three times a day and I will check hourly to make sure you haven't escaped.”

Lilac feels anger and dread make its way up her throat. Normally she can only leave her room for meals, trips to the study and to be her mother’s dress-up doll. But to be stuck here with no time outside at all?

“B-B-But I-I-I-I-” She tries to protest, but the words are caught behind a lump. She tries something else, “C-C-Caaaa-” It’s no use.

“No buts. You have ignored me time and time again, and you must face the consequences.” Nanny Abi interrupts. She stares carelessly at the frustrated tears welling up in Lilac’s eyes. “And don’t throw a tantrum. You are not a baby and screaming will get you nowhere. All you’ll do is wear yourself out and irritate your parents. You wouldn’t want to do that, child, would you?”

No, no she didn’t. Not being allowed outside is horrible, but her parents' disappointment and anger is worse. Lilac wouldn’t be able to face that. So she takes a shaky breath and blinks back tears. “Nuh-uh.”

The corners of Nanny Abi’s mouth tilt up, but it's not something Lilac can call a smile. “Good girl,” She says, walking briskly to the door with clicking steps. “I’ll be along shortly with your new books. I expect you to finish three questions by the time I return.”

Then she’s gone, and Lilac is left alone in her cold pastel room, with work that she barely understands on her desk and the weight of her nanny and parents expectations heavy on her this shoulder. She wipes away at her eyes and goes back to that too familiar chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to write Lilac as she currently is is, a five-year-old, and I hope very much it's accurate. Things are pretty dim for her tight now, but fear not! They will get better!
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you stick around for the next chapter. 
> 
> Please comment, kudos and feel free to give criticism and tips! I love when I can improve my writing!  
> Toodles!


	2. Open the cover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's hoping this chapter goes well.

So, the past week hadn’t gone too well.

Lilac had been locked in her room (thankfully with an attached bathroom) with books on _Ladylike Behavior_ to study under Nanny Abi’s sharp eyes, and had to continuously look up words in her dictionaries because she could barely piece together simple sentences and those books are _hard_.

_But!_ She _isn’t_ going to let that get her down! Why?

Because during those unbearably boring days she had come up with a plan: She’ll sneak past Nanny Abi and ask her parents to let her outside!

Surely they’ll see how hard she’s been working and reward her. And what better reward than rolling in the grass and digging through the dirt? She can _already_ smell the flowers!

But how does she get past Nanny Abi, Lila muses over her breakfast.

She idly looks at the books on the shelf. Currently, she and Nanny Abi are in the study because the woman had to write letters to… someone. Lilac hadn’t been paying attention to what her nanny said, and Nanny Abi was probably preoccupied since Lilac’s inattention hadn’t gotten her a scolding.

Lilac’s gaze wanders to the woman. She sat in the chair as straight as a plank of wood, and just as expressionless. In front of her was a pile of papers, written on in that neat, fancy script adults use. Every few words she pauses to dip her pen in a pot of ink on the edge of the table.

The child’s eyes sparkle as an idea comes to her. It’s _perfect!_ And if it doesn't work, then at least she would have payback for those countless hours of work.

Lilac shoves the last of her food into her mouth and stands up, plate in hand. She walks as innocently as possible to the door, past the desk... and trips. She slips the plate on the corner of the desk as she rashes to the floor. Something tips over.

Nanny Abi’s barely contained scream of surprise and anger tell Lilac her aim was true.

Nanny Abi turns to her and brings her pointy-toed shoe onto Lilac’s hand. “You stupid, clumsy brat!”Lilac winches and bites her lip. _She suspects nothing._ “Go to your room! Go!” Lilac scrambles out the room, holding her hand to her chest. Step one is successful.

The next step is to get to her father’s office or her mother’s drawing-room without being held up by the staff. After a moment of thinking, she decides on the office. There are always maids going in and out of the drawing-room.

She quietly toes through the hallways, hiding behind a curtain or pillar when she hears someone coming. The carpets help muffle her steps, and she holds her hair back when looking around corners so nothing gives her away. Lilac is near the office when she has a close call.

Miss Skoon, a new maid Lilac first saw a few weeks ago, almost runs straight into the curtain that the pastel haired child is hiding behind. She looks completely frazzled, and Lilac wonders what the big hurry is. Maybe she didn’t wash the dishes, or forgot to bring in the laundry?

_No, it doesn’t matter now_. She brushes the curtain away. _Concentrate Lilac._

The door is right there.

Lilac stands in front of it and reaches up to the doorknob. She stands on her toes turn it and the door swings open with a gentle push.

There her father sits, hair a dusty brown and clothes pastel green. He’s surrounded by piles of paperwork and bookshelves stuffed with folders and journals. Lilac can’t even begin to understand the words written on them.

“Yes? What is it now?” Her father is clenching a pen in his hand and sounds impatient. Lilac takes a deep breath and prepares herself.

“F-Father?” Yes! This is going great! She got the word out, and soon she’ll be outside and maybe even playing with bugs!

Her father glances up, but he doesn’t look happy to see her. “Lilac? What are you doing here, where’s Miss Abigail?” _No, don’t frown_ , Lila tells herself. _You can do this._

She takes another deep breath. “I wanted t-to ask-” Her words lodge in her throat. She breathes again. “C-Can I go out-s-side? P-Please?” _Yes! Yes, good job Lilac! Now he just needs to say-_

“No.” Lilac stalls. Gulps and looks into his eyes. He looks irritated.

“W-why?” He scoffs and looks at his work. “You have no reason to be out there. It’s dirty and you’ll ruin your clothes. And you have studies to attend to, I’m sure. Now return to your room, and tell Miss Abigail I want to see her.”

Lilac gets the urge to flee and steels herself. She _will get_ _outside!_

“Pleease, Father. I-I’ve been work-king rreally hard and- and I re-really want t-to play outside-”

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake.” He growls. “I have said this before, Lilac: You will not be leaving this house. You will do what Miss Abigail tells you to do and stop this nonsense.” He stands up and leans over the desk. “I don’t understand why you insist on ignoring me and running of the second we turn our backs. Are we not your parents? Are we not the ones who provide for you and keep you clothed and fed?”

The child’s eyes meet the carpet. “You are…”

“Then why must you ignore everything we tell you? We hired the best of the best to take care of and teach you, yet you only wish to roll in the mud like a _dog_ ,” He spits. Lilac can’t bring herself to say anything. All her previous determination drains out of her like he had pulled some kind of plug. “Do you know why we work so hard to make you a proper lady?”

He stands up straight, looking down his nose at her. His brown eyes are hard as stone. Lilac hunches further inward.

“You are the only heir to the Sien family and business, and because of that you are our _future_.” _Why does he say that word like that?_ “You don’t have time to be frolicking in the garden. Therefore, you must be well educated, well mannered, and _well-spoken_.”

Lilac flinches.

“You can’t act like a rat, crawling in and out of buildings and nestling in grime. Our family is of the highest breeding and we won’t allow it to be sullied by your rebellious behavior.”

He’s calmer now, so Lilac tries again. Softly, sadly, she says, “I j-just want to p-play outside…”

He sighs through his nose. “And still you go on.” He opens his eyes and says, “No, you will go to your room and stay there. I will tell Miss Blou to bring you dinner and take out any nature books. Clearly you’ve been reading too many. Now go.”

She wants to say more, but nothing comes out. She disappointed her father and now she’s in trouble. Was it so bad to want to run on the grass and get sand under her nails? To tangle her hair in the wind and blind her eyes in the sun? Can’t she have just one day outside, without the cold walls of this building closing in on her, and the colder eyes of her parents and nanny staring at her with something she cannot name? Why do they keep her here?

She leaves with tears in her eyes, returning to her room, once again defeated. She knows when Nanny Abi finds out what she did she’ll be in even bigger trouble.

She doesn’t dwell on the thought. She has tasks she needs to finish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are still looking pretty bleak for Lilac, but worry not. The cover has been opened and soon the story begins!   
> Please kudos and comment, and if you want to, leave some advice! I love hearing from my readers! Until next time!


	3. Start the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to find out how this started.

Lilac remembers the day she left these walls and saw the outside world for the first time.

She was three years old, almost four, and her nanny of that time had decided to take her out to the garden. Lilac can’t remember anything about her except how dark her hair was, as though it had been dyed in the night sky.

The nanny had carried her out the nursery and down the stairs. On her nanny’s hip and with her thin arms looped over her neck, Lilac had watched the windows pass by and the walls change from light pink to light green, then light blue. Floor to floor they went until finally they had reached the door.

Lilac had watched with big round eyes, so curious to see what was out there. All she had known was what her storybooks told her, and snippets of information her nanny mentioned. She hadn’t been able to reach the windows at that point, so all she’d seen were the clouds and leaves. So she had held her breath as that door creaked open.

The garden outside was a wide-open space filled with grass and surrounded by flowerbeds and tall trees. An iron table and two chairs were placed off to the side, under a gazebo overgrown with vines.

_It was beautiful._

The colors were bright, brighter than her clothes and her books and the coloring pencils she’d had on her desk. Brighter than the paintings on the walls and the furniture in all the rooms. Just thinking about it now was left her breathless.

And everything around her had been moving. The leaves and the grass rustled in the breeze and the flowers – _such beautiful flowers_ \- had danced against each other on their little stems.

Droplets of water were splattered on the plants and made rainbows where the sun hit, and _the sun_. It blinded her with its radiance, and she could feel it seeping through her skin and warming something she had never realized was cold.

The outside was so _alive_ in a way that her home just wasn’t. She’d squirmed out of her nanny’s arms and immediately ran to explore that life. Her nanny had returned to the manor, likely to drink tea while she waited.

Lilac remembers how she stumbled over the grass and fell face-first to the ground. The grass smelled so strange, fresh and sour and itchy against her nose. She’d ripped a clump out to rub it between her fingers. Then she got back up and made her way to the flower beds.

There Lilac fell to her knees of her own accord. Her hands were shoved in the rich soil to balance herself as she had leaned in the sniff the flowers. Purples and pinks mixed on bushes of round petals. They had smelled sweeter than the storybooks could describe, and the softness made her think of her mother’s dresses.

When Lilac had gotten enough of that sweet scent she started digging, reveling in spilling dirt all over herself and her surroundings. She’d even dug up a worm, pink and wiggling in her palm.

That’s how she had spent the day, running wildly within the garden, touching everything she could reach and smelling every single flower. She’d rolled all over the grass and covered herself with dirt. She was so busy giggling and smiling in excited, childish joy that she didn’t notice her nanny leave.

Lilac only realized when, while attempting to climb a tree, a man saying he was a gardener came up to her and asked if she wanted to play a game. It was called the sneak away game, and to play she had to be quiet. He had that said her nanny was already playing and promised Lilac a sweet if she won.

The man had looked grouchy and spoke roughly, but she had never played a game with someone that wasn’t her nanny before.

So she had agreed and held her hands over her mouth as he picked her up and started moving past the trees. It was hard not to giggle at the funny face the man had made, like he had eaten a sour berry.

Together they had traveled on a confusing path, made random twists and turns. The man stepped over fallen logs and ducked under branches, and Lilac had started wondering where they were going _. What are we sneaking away from?_ She had thought.

She began feeling bored and was about to go back to the much more interesting garden when they’d reached a wall. It was just past the woods, and it was really tall and made from thick white bricks. She now knows that it’s the wall that surrounds the manor.

The man had started calling to someone on the other side of the wall, putting Lilac down to reach into a pouch on his hip. Someone responded, but they were too far away for her to make out the voice. The man had pulled out a spool of rope and told her not to move. He’d then thrown the rope over the wall, called to someone again, and told Lilac to climb.

When she couldn’t he had grown irritated and lifted her higher up. Lilac had to grab onto the rope so she wouldn’t fall. The game, at that point, hadn’t been fun anymore.

Before they could have gotten any further, other men, bigger and holding rifles, ran out from the forest and ordered them to stop. Two jabbed at the gardener man and cornered him, while a third pulled her off the rope. He carried her on one arm and held his rifle in the other. Lilac isn’t sure what happened after that.

She knows they returned to the manor, and that her parents were in the tea room, where the door to the garden was. She knows her father had been red with fury, and her mother refused to look at her. She knows she didn’t see her nanny waiting for her there. She knows she was forbidden from leaving the house ever again.

Lilac knows that one week later Nanny Abi started working for her parents, becoming her new nanny. Her storybooks were taken and replaced with textbooks. Her coloring pencils were thrown away. The pictures she drew of the garden were declared a waste of time and burned. Every shred of happiness and fun she had had was gone, and left behind was the never-ending study sessions, the painful punishments if she did something wrong and the hope that if she made her parents proud enough, they’ll bring back the other nanny and send Nanny Abi away.

_But it didn't happen._

* * *

It’s been a day since Lilac tried asking her father to let her outside. She was _so sure_ that if she asked instead of sneaking then he’d agree. But nope. That endeavor grounded her to her room for another two days, had her nature and geography books taken away, and earned her harsh slaps from Nanny Abi. A part of her wonders what Nanny Abi’s punishment was for leaving Lilac alone, but she doesn’t ask.

Currently Lilac is sitting in front of her desk. Nanny Abi is explaining to her the difference between ‘their' and ‘there’, ‘then' and ‘than’, and the three ‘two’s there are. Lilac huffs quietly. _Why do people write words that sound the same differently? They just make them harder to remember!_

Her mind drifts off while Nanny Abi continues to droll on. She goes to her conversation with her father –if it can be called that- and she tries not to show how sad that thought makes her feel. HE hadn’t even greeted her when she came in. He just looked at her and immediately asked where Nanny Abi was.

Or Miss Abigail, Lilac remembers. When she was first introduced, Lilac just latched onto the part of her name she could pronounce.

The pastel-haired child’s brow furrowed when she thought deeper. Nanny Abi said it’s rude to call people by their names, and thus they must be referred to as Miss or Mister, and then their surname. If her father is calling Nanny Abi by her surname, then what is her name? Would it also be rude to ask her? _Will I get in trouble if I do?_

“I hope that face means you’re paying attention.”

Lilac straightens up. Nanny Abi is looking at her again. _How do I keep getting caught?_ she frowns. Then she takes a deep breath. _Be brave, Lilac._ She looks up. “W-What is your naaamme?”

Nanny Abi scowls, “You weren’t listening to a thing I said, were you?” _Oh no._ “This is an important lesson, child. If you don’t know how to use these words, then your more foolish than you sound.” She bites back a flinch. Nanny Abi always goes for sore spots.

“You refuse to speak as a proper young lady should, so I must teach you to write like one. But you don’t even want to do that!” The woman snaps. The book she was reciting from is slammed onto the desk and Lilac jerks back from the sound.

Her ear is twisted to the side and the pain forces Lilac to bend. “Your parents expect a proper, educated heir out of you, not an illiterate idiot who rebels at every turn. And your manners!” She twists again. Lilac’s eyes tear up. “Not a please or thank you, not an excuse me, just interrupt me with your stupid questions!”

“I-I-I’m ssssoorry.” Lilac sniffs. Her ear is released and she scoots back on her chair. Nanny Abi picks the book up and looks down at the child with absolute disdain.

“If you must know,” She sneers. “My full name is Jennifer Streng Abigail. Now get to work. If this activity isn’t finished in an hour, you won’t get supper.” She goes to her desk on the other side of the room and sits down stiffly to do her work. Nanny Abi isn’t allowed to leave Lilac alone during the day anymore.

Pink eyes follow her movements, then dart down to the open book in front of her. Written on the pages is yesterday’s activity, simple tenses. Most of it is crossed out in red pen. Each cross earned her a pinch. ‘The best way to learn from your mistakes,’ Nanny Abi had said months ago.

Lilac opens the book to a clean page, pics up her pen, and freezes.

She stares hard at the page, barely moving, breathing, and not once blinking.

Her eyes are wide open, her milk pale skin turns paler, sweat gathers on her brow. She does not move.

It takes but moments for Nanny Abi to notice the absence of pen scratching on paper. She stands up and storms over. Lilac does not move.

Nanny Abi calls her name once, twice, three times, each angrier than the last. Lilac still does not move.

Only when her shoulder is roughly yanked back does Lilac break out of her trance. She is shaking and gasping, as though she had just been drowning. Her eyes blink and tear up, and something is wrong. She looks up at her nanny, irritated anger pinching her face, and realizes what’s off.

“Why-why’s everyt-thing blurring?” She whimpers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was pretty rough, not gonna lie. We learned how Lilac started this obsession with the outside world, an you kids are. Tell them not to do something and they'll be even more determined to do it.  
> I've been writing this chapter all week, so I'm hoping it isn't too off. Past tenses are harder than present tenses, so if i made a mistake please tell me.
> 
> Kudos, comments and constructive criticism are always welcome, so come visit me in the comment section. I am literally always on this website, and will be more than happy to respond.
> 
> Thank you, and see you all next time!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've kinda been now writing for a while. Why? Because Business Studies, Design and CAT decided to each hand out huge assignments that needed to be handed in within two weeks. Coincidentally on the same day. Then the end of term tests broke down my door. These last two months were a joy. 
> 
> But I have returned with an extra long chapter! 
> 
> Time to learn what happened at the end of the last chapter. Hold on, Folks!

“Why-why’s everyt-thing blurring?” She whimpers.

Lilac’s breath comes out in quick, short gasps, and she’s rubbing her eyes to clear them. It doesn’t work.

“What are you doing?” Nanny Abi pulls her hands away, squinting at Lilac’s face. “What are those? What did you smear on yourself?” She growls. Her anger makes Lilac’s mounting panic spike.

She feels dizzy, her head hurts and everything around her has been reduced to blobs of fuzzy colors. The child is disoriented and scared- it’s like the walls are closing in on her.

Lilac does the only thing she can, and bursts into loud, ugly sobs.

Nanny Abi startles, then surges forward to pull Lilac’s arms. “Must you make such a racket?” She barks. Lilac starts pulling back, kicking and screaming. She squirms and wiggles, trying to escape the vice-like grip on her forearm. Nanny Abi is too big though, and too strong for Lilac’s struggles to be effective.

Nanny Abi grows more agitated. She throws the child towards her bed and storms through the door. She tears it open and growls at a passing maid, “Get Mr. Sien in here this instant!” The frightened maid scurries down the hall.

She stalks back to the still crying child and forces her onto the bed. “Stop blubbering already! Your father will be here momentarily and I’m sure he doesn’t want to see you in such a state.”

_Right. Right, my father hates when I cry. Calm down, Lilac._

Lilac bites down on her lip to muffle her sobs and starts clenching and twisting her dress. She sniffs to stop the mucus trailing down her face. Nanny Abi is watching her as though her tears are poisonous and makes no move to help.

Someone opens her door, but it’s not her father. It’s her mother.

“Oh, Darling!” She frets, her long, pale red dress fluttering around her legs. Her hair, blond and as frizzy as Lilac’s, bounces with her every step. Her red lipstick accentuates her frowning lips.

She stops in front of Lilac and pulls out a handkerchief from her sleeve. “Look at you!” She says. “You’re an absolute mess!” Her mother sits next to her and firmly pats the tears away.

She tucks away the hairs that escaped from Lilac’s braid and tuts at her hands. “You know you shouldn’t do that, Darling. You’re wrinkling your dress.” The dress is pulled out from between her fingers and smoothed over.

“There, isn’t that better?” She asks expectantly, frowning harder when she sees Lilac still sniffing and blinking hard. She sighs, scrunching her eyebrows.

“Don’t cry, Darling. No one likes to see a girl in tears.” She chides, leaning away. Lilac tries to still herself.

 _Tears don’t help anything_ , she thinks.

The door opens again. Her father has arrived. His eyes sweep across the room, catching on Lilac and her mother for a moment and then finding Nanny Abi.

“What happened?” he asked. Lilac focuses on his voice. It’s measured and steady, not a pitch out of place. It helps Lilac ground herself. Her father will know what to do, he’ll know how to fix this.

Nanny Abi steps forward from where she was standing by Lilac’s bookshelf. She clears her throat.

“Mr. Sien,” She starts. “I’m afraid your daughter has been causing quite the commotion.” She doesn’t look at Lilac, but the child can still feel her contempt. Lilac shivers next to her mother gives her a disapproving glance.

“Yes?” Her father prompts, impatient.

“Just minutes ago she had been refusing to complete her worksheet.” _I wasn’t refusing, I just asking a question._ “So after punishing her, I returned to my desk. A few minutes later I noticed Lilac wasn’t writing. I turned to her and found her staring at her notebook. I tried calling her, but she did not react. Only when I touched her shoulder did she do anything.” Nanny Abi points to the book, lying face-down where it fell.

“She started _screaming_. I immediately called for you and set to calming her down.” Nanny Abi finished.

Her father takes a moment to consider her words, then turns to Lilac. “Well Lilac,” he says. Something in his eye gleams. “What happened?”

Lilac takes a deep breath and stands up. She tries to look her father in the eye, but she’s too nervous. She instead looks at the family emblem stitched on his tie. It’s the same as the one on the front of all her dresses, only brown instead of pink like her eyes.

Her father clears his throat. _Right, right. Here I go._

“I wa-was p-picking up my-my b-book to-to do my work, and op-pened it on a c-clean page. Then w-words st-started writing themselves on th-the lines.”

Her father waits for her to talk, for once patient and ignoring her stutters. He leans forward when she’s done, and he looks intrigued.

“Oh?” He asks. “And what did it say?” He sounds expectant, but Lilac doesn’t wonder what. She’s trying to remember what those words said. “They, uh, they s-said…” Lilac says. Her father’s eyes narrow.

“Th-they said the witch w-would have a… s-spawn? When leaves are or-range and winds are w-wild.”

Her father continues staring at her hard, then, unexpectedly, smiles. It’s a small thing, stretching weirdly on his face, but it’s as close to excited as she’s ever seen him.

He places a hand on her shoulder, still smiling and says, “I knew this day would come. I knew you wouldn’t disappoint us. Not on this. Well done Lilac.”

Lilac feels something in her chest swell up, like her heart just turned into a bubble and is about to make her float into the ceiling. Her father is _proud_ of her! _He’s smiling at her!_ And not in a mean way either! Oh, Lilac could just fly out the window on a rainbow! She’s so happy!

Except…

Her vision is still blurring, and the pain in her head isn’t going away. Her mother is bouncing where she sits, and the bed’s movement makes Lilac sway. That, in turn, made her dizzier and nauseous. She bites down on her lip so she doesn’t puke. 

Her father had turned away while she came down from her joyful cloud, and is now talking to Nanny Abi. He isn’t smiling anymore, he seems to have lost all emotion, and Nanny Abi is glaring at him with her jaw clenched. Lilac wishes she could hear what he could be saying to make her so angry, but her mother has finished her bouncing and is now squeezing Lilac tightly. Although she feels smothered, Lilac is happy.

Lilac isn’t sure how she did it, but she made her parents proud.

* * *

The child pages through one of her books. A text about animals she had been able to hide after she asked to go outside. A maid had come and taken all the nature books on her shelves, just like her father had said.

She’s sitting alone on her bed. Her father had left with Nanny Abi without speaking another word to her, and her mother left after redoing her hair. The braid pulls painfully on her skin, but she doesn’t want to make her mother disappointed by pulling it out. Not when she now smiles every time she glances at Lilac.

No one is here to make the child work, so she takes this unplanned break for the blessing it is and tries to pronounce the names of the animals. Some are easy.

“Deer.”

Others are spelled weird.

“Elep-pant? Hant?

Some she doesn’t even try.

She stares incomprehensibly at the name of a strange water creature that looks like a lizard, but with pink, squiggly skin. An Axolotl. How does she say the ‘x’? Or the ‘tl’ at the end? _What is this word?_

Someone knocks on the door, and she has a split second to shove the book under her pillow pretend she was reading the dictionary on her side-table. Miss Skoon walks in and bows stiffly.

“Young Miss Lilac,” she greets. “Your father wishes to see you now.” Lilac hops off her bed and waits for the maid to lead the way.

Soon they stop at her office door, and Miss Skoon allows her in. The door is closed behind her.

Her father is standing with his back to her, staring out his window. She folds her hands in front of her and waits for him to speak. Eventually does.

He turns to her and smiles. Lilac can’t help but smile in return. That light, happy feeling is back again.

“My dear, this is a wonderful occasion.” He brushes his hair back and walks around his desk. “You have been blessed with the Family Gift, and your mother and I couldn’t be happier. This means that you are the key to bringing our family to greater heights!” His arms lift high into the air like he’s physically lifting their surname.

He takes a deep breath to continue. Lilac’s curiosity interrupts him.

“Gift?”

He throws her a look, but says nonetheless, “Yes, Lilac. The Family Gift.” He strides to one of his bookshelves, much taller than hers, and pulls off a manuscript. “This gift has been passed down the generations since long before our family had a name. We were named after this gift, this ability. ‘Sien’, meaning to see. You, child, have the ability… to see the future.” He pauses dramatically, clearly waiting for her to stop spluttering.

Lilac stares at him wide-eyed and gaping. Her? Reading the future? That’s only things from fairy tales!

 _But,_ she thought, _how else could I have read from a blank book_? It wasn’t a lot, and the words were simple and the sentences short, but they weren’t physically written in her notebook. She checked the page when everyone left.

“R-Really?” She looked up at her father. He scowled.

“Of course!” He bit out, “I don’t have time to make up some ridiculous story for you, you dolt!” She looked back down. _Oh, and this was going so well…_ He ground his teeth together and slams the manuscript on his desk. A deep breath to calm himself, he sits in his chair and he starts paging through it. He stops soon and picks up a pen to scribble something down. All of this is done in silence.

The child fights the urge to fidget while he works. She waits patiently for him to finish.

Minutes pass, and he speaks again.

“More lessons will be added to your schedule. Because your Sight is centered on reading, your lessons will include mainly reading, writing and the interpreting of texts. Etiquette will be included as soon as you reach an acceptable level.” She silently nods.

He closes the manuscript. “Your lessons will begin as soon as your new instructor arrives.”

“Yes, Fat-ther.” She nods again. At this point, he’s clearly dismissing her, but Lilac hesitates. She’s already irritated him; how much worse can another question make it?

Her father looks up when he doesn’t hear the door open. He raises an eyebrow. “Yes?”

She breathes. “W-What of Nanny Abi? Will s-she c-come back?”

Her father snorts, “Don’t be silly, girl.” He says it slowly like she’s as dim as a brick. At least he doesn’t look mad. “What need do you have for a nanny and an instructor? No, Miss Fluit will be replacing Miss Abigail. She’ll be your caretaker and tutor for the foreseeable future.”

Lilac tilts her head. “Why? What h-hap-pened to Na-Nanny Abi?” She’s been talking a lot today.

“She has been deemed unfit for duty and sent away.” He stands up and returns the manuscript to its place. He then runs his hands over random spines Lilac wonders what he’s looking for now. “Until miss Fluit arrives you’ll be doing independent studies with these diaries.” He holds up a dusty old book.

_Oh, that sounds horrible._

That book and the others he’s pulling off the shelf look ancient. She only understands the basic fonts, and these diaries are most definitely written in the fancy looping script Nanny Abi uses. She bets they’re also full of long words with weird meanings. Lilac doubts she’ll understand an of it by herself.

Nonetheless, when she returns to her room she’s accompanied again, this time by a maid carrying the diaries. They are placed on her desk next to her dinner.

It’s her favourite: mashed potatoes and steak cut into small blocks, covered in cranberry sauce. A small salad is piled on the side. It’s sweet and helps her feel a little bit better.

She eats alone, and reads alone, and struggles through the words alone. The maid from before only makes an appearance to collect the plate and cutlery and drop off more books. Lilac ponders if she’ll need another bookshelf. Hers might be too full.

The silence gets to her. There’s no wind tonight, and her room is too high to hear the crickets. Lilac hadn’t thought she’d miss the stiff breathing and loud scratching of her pen. The woman was horrible to her, but she was the only company Lilac had most days.

She doesn’t miss Nanny Abi, but she misses her presence. Lilac isn’t sure how she’s supposed to feel about that. What should she think?

_Nanny Abi isn’t here. That means… she can’t stop me._

Lilac jumps from her bed and pushes her chair to the window. It’s harder than she thought it would be, the wood is heavier than anything she’s ever lifted, yet Lilac perseveres.

With a final grunt, she shoves the chair right against the purple curtains –Pastel, like everything else- and pulls herself on top of it. The chair’s seat is the same height as her bellybutton. As soon as she’s safely balanced she pushes the curtains to the side.

The stars are bright in the night sky, shining like beacons in the void. She can’t see the small ones, her eyes are still too blurry for that, but what she can see is _beautiful_. So much more so than the pictures and descriptions in the books. She can’t bear look away.

Lilac stays there, staring until she nearly tips off the chair in exhaustion. So much has happened today, she feels like she might wake up and this will all be a dream. Nanny Abi will be there, telling her to stop being lazy and get out of bed.

She slowly drags her chair back to its place so she won’t get into trouble later, and crawls under her covers.

She feels content now. Better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nanny Abi is gone and a new character is announced, we learned some background info, and Lilac got to see the stars for the first time. All in all a good chapter, I'd say.  
> Tell me what you think! I love comments and adore Kudos!  
> See you all next chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5, here we are!

A woman walks through the woods on a long path made of bricks, chin high, back straight and clutching a leather satchel in both hands. She could hardly see it under the dust stirred up from the surroundings, but the click of her boots’ heels assured her she was on the right track. The late spring winds try to flip her hat off her head, but she holds it still with two fingers on its brim.

An old leaf, somehow surviving the previous windy season, is shaken loose from a branch and lands on her shoulder, as though it were a butterfly.

Magtalena Fluit smiles, amused at the thought. Perhaps she could draw a butterfly with leaf wings?

Absently brushing the leaf away, she walks down the bend around a huge tree and sees her destination, the Sien Manor, standing tall in the distance. The building is white, with a brown roof; hickory brown, if she remembers her shades correctly. It looks to be three floors tall from her current position.

A couple of meters away from her are the walls surrounding the property, and the gate intercepting the brick path. Two large men stand on either side of the gate, armed with rifles and knives strapped to their belts and wearing dark grey clothing. They eye her as she comes closer.

“What business have you here?” The one on the left calls. Miss Fluit opens her satchel and pulls out the message she received.

“I am here on the request of Mr. Sien.”

The man on her right steps forward and takes the envelope, studying the wax seal closely. He pulls the letter out, unfolds it, and checks the signature at the end. He refolds it, slips it back into the envelope, then returns it to her. “Looks alright.”

He steps back and the first man pulls open the wrought iron gate. Only the left gate, as there isn’t much point in opening both for one woman. “Here you go, Ma’am. Have a good day.” He says. Not much for conversation, but that’s fine. Miss Fluit is here on business, and it won’t do to be caught dawdling.

Miss Fluit studies the gate as she passes with a keen eye. It’s a work of art, bars soldered into curls and vine-like patterns. The blacksmith who made this must be talented.

The gardeners as well, she thinks as she admires the pristine grounds. The hedges are cut perfectly round and the grass is as green as life. The sculptures spaced around the path are polished marble, chiseled in the form of elegant swans taking flight. The rose bushes surrounding them are filled with white and pink blooms

She reaches the end of the path and climbs the few stairs to the front door. The long walk leaves her slightly winded, so she gives herself a moment to breathe before knocking.

Now she can see the outside of the manor properly. The door is a beautiful mix of carved white wood and colored panels of glass. What she can see through the glass shows light walls and wide-open space. The windows are clear as crystal and soft white curtains flutter inside those that are open. She thinks she spies some pale red curtains as well.

Miss Fluit has no doubt all of this costs a small fortune to maintain. But the Sien Family is old blood and old money, and seem to relish in showing it off.

The door opens soon and a man, older than the guards at the gate, steps through. He asks for her letter and she readily hands it to him.

“Welcome, Miss Fluit. Our employer has been expecting you.” He says, holding the door open for her. Miss Fluit replies, “Thank you, Mr…?”

“Jackson Grond.”

“Thank you, Mr. Grond.”

Mr. Grond politely offers to take her hat, but she refuses and puts it in her satchel instead.

He leads her out of the entrance hall, through what looks to be a gallery, and into a living room. There he tells her to make herself comfortable until someone comes to escort her. He leaves without further conversation. She feels a bit disappointed, but he has to report her arrival to Mr. Sien.

Miss Fluit sits down on a couch pushes against the wall and looks at the décor. The colour scheme of this room is blue - if it can even be _called_ colour. Everything she’s seen so far in this place is shades of whites with pastel accents. The furniture is made from white woods or light-colored fabrics. The art pieces hanging from the walls are pale. It may be elegant, but the thought of being a maid and having to keep it clean! Heavens no!

Even Mr. Grond’s uniform is a strangely washed-out grey. _In fact,_ Miss Fluit thinks, a bit disbelieving, _she might be the most vibrant thing in this building_. Wearing her brown skirt and coat, orange button-up shirt, blue-ribbon around her collar and favourite orange and blue apron, she sticks out like a sore thumb.

Now Miss Fluit is an artist, as well as a teacher. She can understand wanting to walk the lighter side of the colour spectrum, but goodness! It’s like she’s in a sun-faded canvas come to life!

Her attention turns to the door when a woman walks in, dressed in a pale blue dress. _Are all the uniforms so bland?_ She asks herself with no little dread.

“The master is ready to see you now.” The woman says. Miss Fluit nods, not showing her inner crises. She follows the woman through the halls in silence.

As they walk through the gallery once more, Miss Fluit breaks the quiet. “So Miss…”

“Skoon.”

“Miss Skoon. Are you a maid?”

“Yes.”

“Do you enjoy working here?”

“It’s fine.”

“What do you think of the architecture of this building?”

“It’s well built, I suppose.”

Goodness, like pulling teeth, this one.

“Are the empl- “

“We’ve arrived.”

They stop in front of a door, which Miss Fluit presumes leads to Mr. Sien’s office. On their right is a beautiful spiral staircase with silver railings. She itches to rub her hands over the flowers twisting around it, but not when she isn’t employed yet. She ought to make a good impression first.

Miss Skoon knocks on the door and opens it for her when Mr. Sien calls from the other side to allow them entry. Miss Fluit strides to the center of the room, the door closing behind her. She now stands before the revered and highly renown head of the Sien Family, Oak Sien.

The first thing to catch her eye about him is his attire. A dusty green shirt, with a light blue vest and trousers. His hair and eyes look like faded wood, and he’s pale. Even this man looks washed out. It’s like everything in this building bleaches itself. The darkest thing here is her and the books on the shelves left of her.

Mr. Sien laces his pen down and stands up to greet her. “Miss Fluit, it is a pleasure to finally meet you,” He says, sticking out his hand. “Welcome to Sien Manor. I hope the journey wasn’t too troublesome.”

“Oh no,” Miss Fluit says, shaking his hand over the desk. His grip is firm and his shakes strong. They let go as soon as is appropriate. “The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Sien. And it was quite pleasant, really. I love the gardens, and the metalwork on the gates and staircase is astounding.” She praises.

“Yes, the workers we hired to do them were particularly talented. Went above and beyond what we expect of them, but that is not why we are here today. Come, take a seat and we’ll begin.”

Miss Fluit daintily sits on the seat in front of his desk and places her satchel beside her. “Yes, of course.”

He takes a moment to collect the necessary paperwork. She waits patiently.

Mr. Sien places them all neatly between them and clears his throat. “Here they are.”

“The first thing we need to discuss,” He starts, looking her square in the eye. “Are the stipulations of your contract.”

“Oh?” Miss Fluit raises an eyebrow. “I thought they were clear? I am to be your daughter’s caretaker and teacher until she turns eighteen or my contract is terminated. What is there to discuss?”

“Your relationship status.”

Miss Fluit blinks. “Pardon me?” Is he-? No, he’s _married._ He can’t be insinuating what she thinks he is.

He thankfully isn’t. “In this household and business, we value loyalty of the highest caliber. Relationships and partners can influence and change who our employees are loyal to, which can potentially cause big problems for us. For this reason, we refuse to hire anyone romantically invested or married to someone else.”

“That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?” Miss Fluit purses her lips. “Having someone you love doesn’t mean you’ll work less or be willing to take down a family as wealthy as yours, Mr. Sien.” Should she reconsider working here? This feels a little…controlling? Dangerous? Goodness, what does she do?

Mr. Sien sighs. “I realize that. Over the years we have lost many dedicated workers and servants, even a few old business partners have shied away from us.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “But I’m afraid we cannot bend on this. This rule was made for a very important reason.”

_And what reason could there be for such a rule?_ Miss Fluit wonders doubtfully.

“You see, two years ago, when my daughter only just started talking, she had another nanny. A Miss Mes Rug. Her and her husband, then one of our gardeners, had conspired to kidnap Lilac. She had taken Lilac out to the garden, then snuck out to the other side of the property wall. He would have thrown Lilac over the wall to her, then left out the employee entrance. Together they would have kidnapped Lilac and held her ransom, but the guards stopped them before they got further than the wall.”

Oh. Well. That makes more sense. Miss Fluit unwinds her tense muscles. It’s still a ridiculous thing to ask of someone, but when coupled with that information… it’s a bit more understandable.

She finally nods. “Alright, I can see where you’re coming from. I suppose it’s not too much trouble.” The woman pulls her reading glasses from her satchel. She flips them open and pushes them onto her face. “I’m not particularly interested in romance, to be honest. And I’m much too old to be dating at this point.”

Mr. Sien smiles. “Good.” He hands her the pack of papers and a pen. “The rest is like any other contract. The household rules are on page three, calendar for events and days off are on page seven, and you need to sign on page fifteen. A list of daily duties will be given to you within two days, and all the materials needed to teach my daughter are already in her room. You will be notified as soon as possible if there is a change in her schedule, and you will be given a week to review any additional subjects before you are required to start teaching them.”

He allows her a moment to read through the contract.

Miss Fluit examines it thoroughly and very carefully does not make any faces. Some of the things are most definitely not ‘like any other contact’. Pushing aside the celibate part, there’s a line that says she won’t reveal any information about the employer and their associates to anyone not approved and it’s edging into shady territory. And the clause that says she can be let go at a moment’s notice. All her other contracts said she must have a month’s forewarning if she’s fired, so she can find new students and prepare recommendations to give to her employer.

She isn’t too sure about it, but his previous explanation can be applied to these rules too. She finished the contract.

“I’d like to discuss a few of these paragraphs in depth later, Mr. Sien.” He nods. “Of course.”

“But first,” Miss Flu looks up, shuffling to page five. “Are we allowed to make any customization to the uniform? I’ve noticed the staff’s-” What she wants to say is everyone on this property except the guards. “-garments are very pale, and I’m not too sure I’ll be able to keep my set clean around a child.” It’s a valid concern when working with children. It’s also a thinly veiled excuse to wear her beloved bright colors.

Mr. Sien shakes his head. “You won’t have to worry about that. Lilac doesn’t have anything that can leave stains.” He then pauses at her piercing stare. “Although it’s not against the rues if you make slight- _slight_ \- changes. As long as you stay within the guidelines.”

“That’s fine.”

Miss Fluit looks up at the clock hanging right from her. She wonders if they’ll finish this meeting in time for dinner.

Perhaps if she gets the job she’ll be able to meet her new student today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was posted way later than I wanted it to be, but it's not as late as i feared. We're currently in the final semester of school and exams start in two weeks, so who knows what my update schedule will be? 
> 
> May I introduce to you Miss Fluit! Our new and improved nanny/tutor/caretaker! i accidentally made her an artist, but welp. Why change that now? I personally think its a good thing.  
> This chapter might be kinda boring, but I'm excited for chapter 6!
> 
> Please, kudos, comment and tell me what you think. I love feedback and new ideas feed to void that is my brain. Tata for now!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers! I am her to bring you a new and conformation that while I may update kinda slowly, I am not abandoning this story.   
> But don't worry about that, just enjoy the chapter!

Miss Fluit, unfortunately, does not get meet Lilac that day. They finish the meeting and negotiations before dinner, but afterward, she’s lead to her new room and left to make herself comfortable. She spends the evening unpacking what belongings she has on her and exploring her new space.

It’s a small room on the second floor, right across the winding stairs. A single sized bed is pushed into the furthest right corner with a bedside table beside it, and in the nearest corner opposite of it stands a plain desk with two drawers. Nailed above the desk is an empty bookshelf, soon to be filled with reading material, notebooks, and other trinkets.

When Miss Fluit continues further in, she sees the closet, two drawers on the bottom and two doors on the top, built into the wall next to the door. The wall to the left has another door, most likely to a bathroom. The wall in front of the door has a single window. Nothing else adorns the space.

It’s a beautiful room, with simple but elegant furniture, but it’s so… plain, Miss Fluit scoffs. The walls are light pink, the curtains soft yellow and everything made from white woods, paints, and fabric. Miss Fluit already misses the bright art she painted across most surfaces of her previous residence. But her employers then had been much more relaxed with their restrictions, as well as art lovers like herself.

Perhaps if she does a sufficient job with teaching her newest pupil, she’ll be allowed to paint the walls in here. For now, she’ll content herself with the colorful bed sheets, books and clothes that will be arriving with her suitcases soon.

She unravels the uniform folded neatly on her bed, and shivers. Just as pale as all the other clothes she’s seen in this Manor.

The dress is a darker blue than the maids’ uniform, more a cloudy evening than their early morning shade. Swirling patterns of icy flowers are stitched into the shoulders and collar. And while the sleeves are a smidgen too long, she can bring those in when her things arrive later. All in all, a good, professional design for a live-in tutor.

With no hesitation, Miss Fluit decides to make her favourite orange apron part of the uniform. It’s not like she’s changing the clothes themselves, so it should be within guidelines. And if Miss Fluit doesn’t wear something brighter than a mist-covered field she might lose her mind.

After dinner, which is brought to her strangely enough, she turns in for the night.

The next morning, she is up fresh and early, throwing open her curtains to greet the early breeze. She blinks at the view.

“So that’s what the backyard looks like.” She hums to herself, surprised. Why it’s more forest than a garden! She must have been more tired than she realized, to not notice yesterday.

Never one to waste time, Miss Fluit makes a trip to the bathroom, dresses in her new uniform and puts her hair up in a braided bun. The uniform fits her well, but it’s colour make her eyes look cold. It’s like it’s sucking out the bold blue to make it match the rest of the staff. Some kind of optical illusion?

Her apron fixes the problem lickity-split! With her suddenly more alive attire, Miss Fluit approaches the door with her satchel.

But where does she go? Miss Fluit wonders, stopping abruptly. Ah, with all the business talk going on yesterday, she forgot to ask. Perhaps she should just ask one of the other employees sure to be wandering around. One of them should be able to direct her.

Miss Fluit nods to herself, picks up her satchel and opens the door confidently, nearly walking straight into another person.

She hastily takes a step back.

The woman she almost just bowled over is noticeably shorter than her, as well as younger. Around thirty years old to Miss Fluit’s fifty. Curly blond hair that's done up elaborately and wearing what must be layers of silk, she must be the matriarch of the Manor. Trailing behind her is a maid.

Madam Sien rakes her eyes over Miss Fluit and curls her lip. “You’ll do, I suppose.” She says, turning on her heel to the right. “Come, I must speak with you.”

Goodness, what an unpleasant first impression. Not even a good morning.

“Alright,” Miss Fluit says, not showing her distaste. She follows Madam Sien and the maid to the end of the hall, into what must be a recreational room. They walk around the bar imbedded in one wall and off onto the balcony. The maid unlocks the stain glass doors with a small key.

The balcony is huge, twice the size of her room. Wisteria vines grow from pots around the railing, only now beginning to grow its blooms in the mid-spring sun. A bench sits to their left and on their right is a comfortable fainting couch and side table.

The maid waits quietly by the door as Miss Fluit follows Madam Sien to the edge where she gazes down at a gardener pruning bushes. Then she turns to look at Miss Fluit.

“You’re our daughter’s new teacher.” She says, voice like velvet. Miss Fluit nods. “Indeed I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madam.” She holds out her hand politely.

Madam Sien stares down at it. “Quite.” She sniffs. She then snaps her finger, and the maid rushes over. She snaps open an umbrella and holds it over the conceited woman.

“Now my _dear husband_ ,” She sighs dreamily, placing her hand on her cheek, “Has hired you to turn our daughter into a proper heir, educated and well mannered. He had forgotten to mention a few details; as busy minds often do.” Another maid scampers onto the balcony and hands the Madam of the house a glass of wine. She sips it elegantly.

Miss Fluit nods again, “I someti-”

“Quiet!” Madam Sien snaps, a wispy cloud turning to thunder. “I was _not_ finished _._ ” Miss Fluit breathes to calm her suddenly spiked heart rate.

“Fortunately, I do not leave the staff to make mistakes.” The woman raises her glass again and takes another sip. Miss Fluit waits impatiently.

Madam Sien savours it for a moment, then sighs happily. “Oh, the joys of freshly opened wine.” She then seems to remember Miss Fluit. “Recently we added a new rule. It has not yet been written into the contracts, but you must follow it nonetheless.” She says, then: “You may not tell our daughter your full name.”

Right, Miss Fluit thinks, her new bosses are insane. Or at the very least not quite all there. The bleached manor. The banning of relationships. Not being allowed to tell a child her _name_ , for some inexplicable reason. Why is she agreeing to this?

Because the Sien family is rich, and rarely takes no for an answer. They can either open doors to success or leave her career in a gutter. And for someone who’s been in the teaching business as long as Miss Fluit has, and taught as many now high-class people, it’s not an easy task. But they can.

And the fact Miss Fluit has never before given up on a student. She’s not going to quit now without even having started, it’s a matter of pride.

Instead of all that, she asks, “Is that so? What is she to call me then?”

Madam Flu waves her question off with her free hand, “Your surname will do. Why I won’t be surprised if she shortens even that. The girl has terrible communication skills. Absolutely horrid to listen to.”

Miss Fluit bristles. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think, Madam. Speech problems are very common in young children. She likely just needs some confidence.” That she’s not going to get with comments like that.

“You can try to cure it, but I have my doubts.” The woman laughs, finishing off her drink. She hands the glass to the maid and makes her way back inside. Miss Fluit and the maid follow.

The door is locked behind them.

They enter the hall again and turn right, walking down a single step. As they turn left into a small passage that leads to a single door, Madam Sien speaks.

“One more thing,” she says, placing her hand on the doorknob. “My daughter is not allowed to read from any blank book. You do not need to know why,” Miss Fluit closes her mouth. “Just be sure to leave no page clean. A small scratch of ink in the corner of the pages will do.”

Before any questions can be asked, she twists open the door.

* * *

Lilac paces around her carpet nervously. Today she meets her new nanny. Tutor? Teacher? What is she supposed to call her? Will she even be able to pronounce it?

Probably not. It’s hard enough to say her own name some days. And what if the lady’s name is really hard to say? With a bunch of ‘k’ sounds and vowels she’ll get stuck on. That would make her look so dumb, and then she’ll get in trouble, and she’ll get even more work…

Lilac barely refrains from shoving her hands into her hair. The longer she waits the more worked u- she’ll get, and there’s nothing she can do with her nervous energy but try to walk it out. It’s not helping much.

Finally, she hears her door creak open. Lilac quickly brushed her skirt down, blows a stray hair out of her eyes, and folds her hands neatly over each other.

Her mother comes in first, sweeping her eyes over Lilac and smiling when nothing is out of place. Her mother had been the one to pick out her dress this morning and had even braided Lilac’s hair. It’s too tight and makes her scalp hurt, but Lilac doesn’t dare touch it.

Next to come in is her mother’s personal maid, Miss Doen. The mousy woman waits by the door.

The final person is an old woman, face youthful despite the wrinkles and brown hair streaked with grey. She wears the same clothes Nanny Abi had, but Lilac’s eyes keep getting drawn to her apron. It’s so bright, almost more so than the flowers outside. Lilac can’t look away from this sudden splash of colour in her pale world. She’s mesmerized.

“This, my darling,” Her mother starts, jerking the child’s attention to her. “is Miss Fluit, your new teacher and caretaker. Miss Fluit, this is our daughter, Lilac.”

Lilac walks forward carefully and holds out her hand. “It –it’s a p-pleasure t-to meet you, M-M-Miss Fluu-.” She gets stuck on the sound, but the woman seems to have no problem with it. She gently takes Lilac’s hand and shakes it.

“The pleasure is all mine, Lilac. I’m sure we’ll have a great time together.” She smiles wide. Lilac is dazzled. She didn’t know people could smile so happily.

“Now that you’re both acquainted,” Her mother interrupts, turning back to the door, “I’ll take my leave. Remember the rules. And Lilac,” She sends back one final glare over her shoulder. “Behave.”

The door closes.

Both of them stare at the door for a moment, silent, then turn back to each other. Lilac isn’t sure what to say. Is she supposed to say anything? What does she do?

Miss Flu, as Lilac will call her until she can pronounce the ‘ui’ right, takes the lead.

“Alright,” she says, “Let’s begin with simple information first. I’m going to be your teacher, caretaker and mentor all in one for the next thirteen years. Do you know what that means?” She places her satchel on the desk. She takes a seat on the bed.

Lilac shakes her head slowly, “No.”

Miss Flu smiles again. “It means we’re going to be spending a lot of time together. So we should get to know each other, don’t you agree? Come, sit with me.” She pates the spot next to her. Lilac stumbles over her feet to get there fast enough and lifts herself onto her bed. Once comfortable she looks up at the old woman.

“We’ll start with our likes and dislikes. I enjoy art, music and talking. I can fill hours with inane chatter if someone would let me.” She says. “Although the people here don’t seem the talkative sort. I don’t believe I’ve heard even a whisper from the staff that hasn’t been unprompted.”

She laughs into her hand. “My dislike, as you can tell, is silence.”

Lilac nods gingerly. She agrees. It’s too quiet on most days.

Miss Flu watches her expectantly. Oh!

“I-I d-don’t like it. It’s…” Empty? Dead? What is she supposed to say? How do you describe silence?

Miss Flu seems happy. Not with her answer, just that she responded. “And what do you like? Is there anything you enjoy doing? Perhaps an after-work activity?”

Lilac decides not to mention the books behind the desk. She shakes her head.

Miss Flu frowns. “Nothing?”

“I have t-to wooork,” Lilac responds. “D-Don’t have t-time.” Miss Flu’s face scrunches up, then she huffs, “Well that just won’t do.”

Miss Flu reaches for her satchel and pulls from it two items: a notebook and packet of pencils. “Let me show you one of the best activities in the world.” She opens the book and hands it to Lilac. The pages don’t have lines but instead, are filled with beautiful pictures. Colourful shapes, fruits, and a vase.

“Drawing is a fantastic hobby to have. You can draw things around you or something straight from your imagination.” She turns the page for Lilac, revealing a river made of rainbows. Lilac stares wide-eyed at it.

“Whoa…”

Miss flu laughs. “This particular piece was inspired by a dream I had one night. A rainbow river filled with fish-shaped with gems. Couldn’t quite capture all the colors, but it’s lovely nonetheless.”

“It’s pretty.” Lilac compliments shyly. She holds out the book for her teacher to take back, but it’s pushed back down into her lap. It’s flipped onto a clean page with one hand while the other opens the pencil pack.

“Go ahead, dear.” Miss Flu encourages. “Draw whatever you like.” Lilac blinks, then slowly grabs a random pencil. It’s too thin for her chubby-child fingers, but she holds it tightly.

The child hesitantly starts scribbling on the paper, glancing up every few seconds to Miss Flu’s patient gaze. As she gets further into her drawing and starts switching colours, she loses her fear and a shard of determination shines through her. Miss Flu notes how the excitement from her little mission makes the pink gems in her eyes sparkle.

At one point she picks up the black pencil but then seems to reconsider and go for the dark blue one. That ends up covering most of the upper half of the page. The yellow pencil is used to draw little stars.

With a final star, Lilac finishes her drawing and puts the pencil back into the pack. It’s scrambled out of its previous colour-coded order, but that can easily be fixed later. Lilac grins brightly down at her masterpiece.

She looks up and Miss flu I grinning at it too.

Lilac realizes who she’s with and ducks her head, waiting for a scolding. She just used up the whole paper and her pencils. Is she in trouble?

“This is beautiful, Lilac! Are these flowers from the garden?” Miss flu asks. The joy in her voice throws Lilac for a loop. She uncurls and follows the woman’s pointed finger.

“Y-Yes.”

“I just adore them. Tell me, which ones are your favourite?”

“The, uh…” Is she supposed to pick only one? That’s impossible; all of them are so pretty there can’t just be one. Besides, she doesn’t know what their names are.

Lilac answers, “All of t-them.”

“All of them, as in every flower?” Miss Flu looks amused.

Lilac nods, sure in her answer. It makes perfect sense. If you can’t choose one, choose them all.

Miss Fly laughs, petting Lilac’s hair. “That’s fair. Did you have fun?” Lilac nods again. “Then we can have an activity session every day, after dinner, I think. It’s not healthy for a young child such as yourself to spend the whole day working. Do you agree?”

The child almost nods again, but then Miss flu says, “A verbal answer, please dear.”

“I ag-g-gree.”

The two smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was fun. No idea about you, but i had a great time writing the drawing scene. And Miss Flu! She's great.
> 
> Please leave a kudos and comment! I love hearing from people and talking about my stuff! It's so encouraging!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long pause for any who read this. I got caught up in exams, then in my Gem au series. I hope you all enjoy this!

Everything falls into a routine soon enough. In the mornings Miss Fluit wakes up and prepares for the day, then goes to help Lilac do the same. She fights Lilac’s tangled, frizzy bedhead, and pulls it into a thick braid that cuts off at her shoulders. Nothing as elaborate or painful as Lilac’s mother or Nanny Abi liked to do- Lilac adores it.

After that, they’d both go to the dining room for breakfast with her parents. Often it was just her mother there, her father choosing to eat his food in the office while he worked. Her mother chattered inanely about whatever comes to mind. Clothes, jewellery and gossip she heard at recent tea parties. All of it meaningless drivel meant to entertain herself before she starts her daily ritual of putting on beautiful dresses and makeup. No one else gets a word in.

Her mother is always sure to leave a scathing comment on how the chosen victim for the day looks or acts. It’s often aimed at her maid and Lilac, occasionally Miss Fluit, and it’s difficult for the teacher to bite her tongue and not retaliate. But she endures it and reassures Lilac that whatever her mother said that day isn’t at all true.

Lilac’s hair is not tacky, and her cheeks aren’t chubby. It’s naturally frizzy, and its only baby-fat that will melt off in the coming years. Lilac isn’t _mentally inept_ , she’s a bright young lady, wouldn’t a teacher know better than someone who doesn’t interact with children? So what if she stutters? It’s not as bad as her mother make sit out to be. She’ll grow out of it.

Those are unfortunately only a few things she’s had to comfort Lilac over. Madam Sien does not pull her punches, and she sniff out weakness like a shark finds blood in the water. It may very well be her only talent, Miss Fluit suspects.

After breakfast, Lilac and Miss Fluit go to either of their rooms and start the child’s morning lessons. Miss Fluit helps Lilac read through books and explains the words and concepts to her. Lilac writes down the new words in a separate book along with their definitions. Then it’s maths, then writing practice.

They have lunch in Lilac’s room, where Miss Fluit tells Lilac interesting stories from places she’s been and people she met. They tried to eat outside once, but Mr Sien shot Miss Fluit down fast after sending Lilac running to her room.

Only then does Miss Fluit realize she doesn’t have the set of keys everyone else seemed to have for the exits. She’s not sure if she should be alarmed at that. She brought it up and was only given a key to the kitchen entrance.

Perhaps because she’s not a personal servant? But she’s an instructor, which is an equal or arguably higher position. She puts the thought aside for another day.

They have etiquette lessons where Lilac learns how to act and talk in certain situations, what’s expected from her as a young lady, and how to sit properly and use silverware. They don’t yet have lessons on business and such. It’s too early to consider that, in Miss Fluit’s opinion. 

After dinner, once again in Lilac or Miss Fluit’s room, they have a free period of time before Lilac goes to bed. Miss Fluit introduces fun activities to her during this time, such as drawing, writing, and crafting things. In the most recent session, they drew flowers on strips of paper, made them into paper chains and hung them around Lilac’s room.

The child looked at her room with sparkling eyes until they were taken down.

They clean up once they’re done and Lilac is put to bed. Miss Fluit returns to her room for the night.

Lilac’s sixth birthday passes quietly. She and Miss Fluit celebrate by taking the day off and playing games in her room. Miss Fluit lets her win most of them and gives her candy as rewards, leaving Lilac slightly buzzed with sugar.

She even gets presents this year, and not just a new dress or different curtains.

Miss Fluit gives her a package wrapped in brown paper, which is promptly torn open with glee. Inside is a brand new sketchbook for Lilac to use and a set of pencils. Nothing high quality, that’s best left until her drawings are more than just scribbles.

Lilac draws a flower on the cover and colours it in with her new light blue pencil.

From her parents, she receives her symbol. It’s the symbol of the whole family, two swirls mirroring each other, connected at the bottom, and a dot between them. It kind of looks like a vase with a marble in it or something, Lilac thinks.

Unlike the green symbols she’s seen in her father’s office and some books, hers is the same bright pink as her eyes and the swirling marks below them. The marks appeared after the first time she read the future, starting at the inner corner of her eyes and getting thicker in the middle. At the end, it’s thinner again and makes a small hook on her cheeks.

Her mother tells Lilac that this is her personal symbol, and will soon be sown onto all her dresses and skirts. She says all the family Seers wear it, the only difference being the colour that is changed to match their marks.

Lilac checks the journals she’s been procrastinating on and sees they all have it draw somewhere amongst the pages, some even inside the covers. She wonders if she’ll have to make a journal too. It looks like a lot of work, and she doesn’t have anything interesting to write in it.

The entire topic reminds her that she hasn’t tried Reading again.

Not that Lilac _wants_ to suffer through the headache, dizziness and blurry eyes again, it was terrifying enough the _first_ time. She was like that for days before it faded and alone without anything to do distract herself. No, she doesn’t want that to happen again.

But…

She knows she’ll have to Read again eventually. If it’s a family talent, then she can’t escape it. Her parents were _so excited_ when she did it the first time and the disappointment they’d have in her if she refused… she can’t bear to think about it.

Lilac has tried to Read again in private, prepared to bite down on her panic and learn as much as she could. Her father hasn’t spoken about a teacher who could guide her through it, and Miss Flu doesn’t even know about her being a Seer or at least hasn’t mentioned it. Lilac assumes she’ll have to learn on her own.

It’s the middle of the night, long after Miss Flu had returned to her room when Lilac padded over to the desk. She opened the drawer and rifled through its contents, fishing out all her notebooks.

She took a deep breath and steeled herself, then opens to a random clean page with closed eyes.

One eye peeked open, and when nothing happened she opens the other.

Still nothing.

Why wasn’t this working? The first time happened all too fast when she wasn’t prepared _at all_. Now that she tried it on purpose, there’s no result?

She tried a different book. Nope. Another one? Nuh-uh.

She even tried the blank pages at the back of her textbooks. Nothing happened.

She spent the rest of that night next to the window again, huffing at the stars. The next day was spent in a tired haze, and a befuddled Miss Flu sent her to bed early.

That’s how their days went. It’s a comfortable pattern.

It’s not a pattern she wants to be trapped in forever.

“Miss Flu?” Lilac looks up from the cloth she’s embroidering. It’s lopsided and the stitches don’t quite line up with the pencil lines Miss Flu drew for her to follow, but the colours are really pretty. It’s going to be a pink and purple flower when she’s done.

Maybe she’ll be allowed to coat it in glitter too!

Miss Flu glances up from her own project. She says it’s going to be a fuzzy grey kitten playing with a ball of yarn. She won’t show it to Lilac until it’s done, so Lilac is half-impatient with anticipation.

“Yes, dear? Do you need help knotting it?” Lilac shakes her head.

“I wanna g-go outs-side,” Lilac admits nervously. Miss Flu isn’t as mean as Nanny Abi was. The most she would do is say no. She wouldn’t smack Lilac for asking, so it doesn’t hurt to try.

Miss Flu pauses. Blinks. What does she say? Mr Sien made his opinion on that extremely clear when they just tried to go to the _balcony_.

But she’s also seen the way Lilac looks at the windows when the child thinks she’s not paying attention. She’s noticed how the chair is slightly off-centre every now and then, as well as the light scratch marks leading up to the window.

Oh goodness, what does she do?

One glance at Lilac decides it for her. She’s just a child, she shouldn’t be locked inside all day.

“Alright,” She sighs, threading her needle through the white fabric. “I’ll ask him tomorrow morning, during breakfast. Will you be alright until I return?”

Lilac nods and smiles up at her. “I’ll be f-fine. I’ll just draw unt-til you c-come back.” Not quite what she’s worried about, but that works.

“Good. Now let me show you how to colour that in…”

* * *

“Sir, please _consider_ it at least!” Miss Flu grits her teeth and reminds herself that strangling people is a very not good thing to do. It’s illegal, it’s immoral, and she’ll give Lilac the wrong ideas.

But _oh_ how _tempting it is_ when Mr Sien completely runs over her argument like a farmer’s bull. The man refuses anything that doesn’t fit what he wants. If she doesn’t get out of this meeting soon she might tip the bookcase over on his head.

Mr Sien doesn’t notice her frustration. He instead reaches for a book buried under his papers and flips through it deliberately. He holds up a hand to her. “Hold that thought for a moment.”

Miss Fluit gawked at him, indignant. He was perfectly happy to negotiate before, but now that she’s an employee he can treat her like- like she’s a fly! She had never met someone so disrespecting! If she could set this man on fire with a stare, he’d be ashes on the ground.

He finally _brings it upon himself_ to look at her, not even bothered by how red her face is turning. “It’s too dangerous for Lilac to go outside, Miss Fluit. The things that could happen to her out there- no, it’s simply easier for her to be kept inside, safe and sound.” He dismisses.

“Now, since you’re here we can talk about a different matter. Something very important to the family, so we couldn’t let you know any earlier than now.”

“Oh?” Miss Fluit steams. “And what would that be?”

Mr Sien launches into an explanation, “We Sien come from a very long line, and are said to be from places long lost to fairy tales.” Does _everything_ this man say sound insane? “You might not believe it, but it’s true. Because of this, our family carries a very unique gift. You may have seen traces of it.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Could he get to the point?

“Those marks under our daughter’s eyes _confirm_ that she has the gift. It only happens every second generation, so she needs to be protected. You see, our dear Lilac is able to _read the future_.” Mr Sien revealed grandly, hand in the air as though he just told her it rains gold.

Miss Fluit takes a deep breath and restrains herself from _shaking_ the insane man. “I’m afraid you’ll have to explain further, sir. What you’re saying doesn’t make much sense.”

He smiles at her, and continues, “As I’ve said, this gift only manifests in one person every two generations. The characteristics are our unusually pale hair, and sometimes the colour. Marks appear on our Seers bodies that show they have the talent to see the future, and how they do it.

“I, unfortunately, was not born at the right time, so I did not receive this gift.” He does seem bitter about it if she’s reading his scowl right. “My father’s marks were green and wrapped around the back of his ears. He could learn the future by playing a flute that made no sound. Lilac, it seems, can read the future from blank books.”

“I was wondering why your wife had me scratch on the papers. But wouldn’t it have been easier to tell me this beforehand?”

“We had no idea if you could be trusted. This is something many people would want for their own, and who knows what they would do to get it? I fear to imagine.”

Miss Fluit sees where he’s coming from, but she also sees right through him. People may want Lilac for her ability, but no one knows about it. Not yet, at least. Are his fears and greed really a reason to confine her to such a small and ridged space?

He takes her silence as acceptance and gives her another winning smile.

“Now that you know this,” He hands her the book on his desk. She deduces it’s a journal from the handwritten paragraphs and dates. “You must instruct her on how to do it.”

She looks up, wide-eyed. “I apologize, Sir, but I am not _near_ qualified do that. I don’t even know how I would start!” He damn near rolls his eyes at her, like _she’s_ being unreasonable.

“We, for rather obvious reasons, haven’t been able to find someone who could teach her. You are the next best option. She has the other journals, but as we’ve seen no progress from her you’ll just have to add it to the curriculum. You have a week to study the journals, I suggest you start now.”

He’s clearly done with the one-sided conversation, so Miss Fluit leaves with boiling blood and the old book in hand. She marches to Lilac’s room and searches the bookshelf.

There they are, four other books shoved into the bottom corner. The wear and tear span back decades. Simple math tells her the oldest might even be older than three hundred years. She handles them with care.

There are clean spaces on the dusty covers, many small ovals made by small fingers. A quick skim through the pages makes her frown. Of course Lilac has shown no progress, the likelihood of her being able to read the texts are small. It’s impossible for her to understand without help.

Miss Fluit carries them to her room to read later. Breakfast is almost over, and she wants to prepare a fun lesson. Something to do with nature, to lighten the blow.

* * *

Months pass in a quiet rhythm of food, lessons and sleep. Miss Fluit reads the journals from cover to cover and tries to explain as much as she can to Lilac. It’s slow going because most of the information is just that which you would find in a regular diary. Nothing to write home about, really. The most interesting one is the oldest, which Mr Sien gave her.

In between pages of dull days and dessert recipes are drawings of strange creatures, foreign-looking people and stories that seem like a fantasy. Some are even written as poems. Miss Fluit soon turn into bedtime stories, much to Lilac’s joy. She writes these down in a separate notebook in case the book gets damaged or taken away and adds her own little sketches of the scenes between paragraphs.

This satisfies Lilac for a while longer and she sets off trying to go outside for another few weeks.

Unfortunately, her parents start becoming impatient again. So Miss Sien hesitantly lays out an empty book on the table. She isn’t sure about starting so soon without knowing more. Lilac just wants to get it over with.

They forget they need a name and a face.

* * *

_The boy whose heart burns bright as the sun falls. Surrounded by shadows, he is powerless to save himself._

_His master, cruel as a rusted blade, banishes the shadows and deems the boy too weak. His light too bright. He lifts his lade and cuts the boy’s Heart in half._

_Left on the dusty rock is a body, a dusty shell containing a broken Heart. Standing next to it is a scattered mind, encased in a body of black and clinging to the fractured shards taken form the boy._

_The Sun, Broken into Dawn and Twilight._

_The Twilight, weak and flickering, is told to wait for the Cruel Master’s return. The Dawn, broken and dying, is taken away._

_The Cruel Master wraps it in cloth and prepares to abandon The Dawn. It is of no use to him._

_The Dawn calls out to the Sky, crying to be saved. It does not want to die. The Sky, newly born and kind as moonlight in the Darkness, answers._

_The Sky heals the Dawn, and the Cruel Master does not leave it for dead. There is now a purpose for it._

_The Dawn is left with another master, to be nurtured and strengthened, while the Twilight is tormented and forged into a weapon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Her firs totally not on accident vision! Oh how kids grow. 
> 
> Sadly I wont be able to update or post any of my works very often, because I'm in my final year of high school and the teachers are swamping us in work. I'll work on stuff when I get the time or during school breaks. Here's hoping it goes well!
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment and kudos, I love hearing from you all! Hope to see you next time!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this one took a while. What can i say? Senior year in high school wants to ditch me in a gutter.

_The Dawn wakes up, dazed and empty. All he was is gone, all he has is his body. It’s quiet._

_ He now resides where others departure, in a land where he meets only three others. _

_ Stone Armour holds him steady as he learns to stand again. Star Maker leads him through forming words. They become his pillars in a world so unstable. _

_ Their Master, one that nurtures and develops talent instead of breaking and bending it, teaches him to hold his blade. _

  


* * *

  


_ Children run on the sands of destiny, answering the calls of freedom with happy abandon. Sheltering Sky tumbles and laughs. Sapling looks to the edge of the water.  _

  


* * *

  


_ Star Maker crafts three stars with precision and care. Each made from love and created to lead their owners home. She gifts two to her dearest friends. _

  


* * *

  


_ The Cruel Master schemes and the Twilight suffers. Emotions leak out, twisted and clawing at the ground. _

  


* * *

  


_ Stone Armour and Star Maker stand back to back against a test of strength. Two Masters and the Dawn watch as they wield their power with years’ experience and practice. Then something goes wrong. _

_ The Star Maker succeeds. The Stone Armour fails.  _

_ The Cruel Master’s plans begin. _

  


* * *

  


_ Dawn and Twilight face each other, the same and yet so different. One wishes to become the Sun again, while the other fears losing what he is and has now. They clash, burning the atmosphere around them and forging The Key of all Keys with their intensity.  _

_ Dawn refuses to be an instrument in the Cruel Master’s plans and shatters them both like hot glass in cold water. The Key shatters with them.  _

_ Both cling desperately to what is left, grasping at strings of hope. Dawn retraces his connection to Sheltering Sky, where he is granted safety and time. Twilight follows his brother and rests in the Sky’s shade. _

_ They are safe. _

  


* * *

  


_ The Cruel Master tricks Grounding Armour, and Nurturing Master falls to his schemes. In his agony, Grounding Armour is possessed. He nearly falls to the Darkness, but Star Maker takes his place and is lost instead. He awakens memory-less in a garden. _

  


* * *

  


Lilac is eleven years old now, and her head is trying to murder her slowly and brutally. Gravity seems to have turned the world into a swing set and her lunch might make a reappearance within the next hour. The only good part of all this is she gets to skip her afternoon lessons and stay in bed.

“How do you feel?” Miss Flu asks her. Lilac shuffles her head deeper under the pillow.

“Nause-s-seous.” She answers, reluctantly letting go of the pillow when Miss Flu tugs on it. She’s not-at-all hesitant to sigh in relief when a cool wet cloth is laid over her eyes, lower her pounding headache to something more along the lines of a beat. A slight improvement to her current situation.

“I’ll bring up some crackers and a bit of ginger ale from the kitchen, but you’ll have to eat quick.” Miss Flu informs her, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress and glancing around the room. “Your father wishes to see you tonight, and I doubt he’ll want to see you in such a state.”

Lilac peeks at her from under the cloth, scowling but not refuting it. Her skin is paler than her normal ‘I’ve-never-seen-the-sun’ shade and the bags under her eyes are near purple. And her hair… it’s best not to start.

The child sighs and her hand drops to her pillow. “What d-does he w-w-want?” She asks.

“I believe he’s going to bring up your Reading again.”

“ _Again?_ ”

Miss Flu clicks her tongue at the mess Lilac left on the desk. “Yes, dear. You’re almost twelve, and I don’t think he will wait any longer. He has most likely already started advertising to his partners.” She straightens out the papers and put the pencils back in their container. Books are stacked neatly to the side and drawings folded between dictionary pages and slipped onto the bookshelf.

On the centre of the desk lies Lilac’s Journal. Its blank pages stare to the ceiling, looking no more harmful than any other book, but _oh_ how Lilac would like to take hold of its pretty pink covers and throw it out the window.

Not that that would make a difference. She’ll just have recreation time taken away and be given another one. No rest for a Seer after all.

Lilac drifts off until Miss Flu shakes her awake with the promised food and helps her prepare. The familiar ginger aftertaste stays in her mouth until she reaches her father’s office. She knocks on his door and enters when permission is granted.

“You c-c-called for me, Father?”

“Ah, yes, Lilac! Come in, come in.” She closes the door behind her and proceeds to his desk. “Take a seat.” She does. Lilac sits straight-backed with her hands folded in her lap and eyes focuses on his forehead.

Her Father puts some papers into a pile. He’s always busy with papers and books, every time she sees him. She wonders if he can even leave his office. It would be funny if he was glued to the chair, and was too embarrassed to tell anyone.

“I have some good news, Lilac, very good news.” He declares clapping his hands together and looking very satisfied. Good news for her or him, she ponders.

“Oh?”

“One of my business partners recently got in contact with me and said he’d be very interested in being the first one to have a Reading done for him. He says if he’s satisfied he’ll pay us a good deal in return.”

Ah, money. She can almost see the symbols in her Father’s eyes. She doesn’t say anything against it., even if she wants to. My head hurts, my eyes are tired, my talents are not something you should sell.

Lilac only nods.

Her Father smiles at her, and she feels a part of her warm-up.

“Mr. Johnhan arrives tomorrow, before lunch. He’ll eat with me while we negotiate, and after that, you will Read for him. And you _will_ do a good job, do you understand?” She wishes that was an encouragement, but his smile turns to a bearing of teeth fast as a dropped coin.

She smiles back, “Of course, Fat-ther.” The teeth disappear, and he leans back in his chair. She waits to be dismissed, but he seems to be considering something.

He hums, low and stare s at her for a bit. She sits absolutely still.

“I know,” He snaps his fingers. “Children learn best when encouraged, so I will offer you a reward if you impress Mr. Johnhan.” Lilac’s eyes widen.

“Yes, I think, I will-”

“Outside.” Lilac blurts, then clamps her teeth down on her tongue. That came out way too fast, and way to forcibly, and at the _completely wrong time._

His face turns blank, and Lilac’s breath stops. “Impatient, aren’t we?” He murmurs. “I’m almost tempted to take it back.”

Lilac shakes her head carefully, head low. She quietly says, “I’m s-sorry, Father. It won’t hap-pen ag-gain.”

He stares at her hard, and she wants to hunch over. He then nods, “See to it.” She holds back a sigh.

Her Father then continues, “Outside, hmm? Well, I suppose if you do exceptionally well, I could think over it. But only under supervision, and only in the garden, you understand.”

Lilac looks up again. Her Father’s attention is back on his papers.

“Yes, Father, thank you.”

“You may go.”

Lilac flees without running, trying not to look as shaken as she feels. The door closes behind her, and Miss Flu is standing on the other side, having waited for her.

She holds open an arm for Lilac to burrow against and leads her up the stairs. They will talk in the safety of her room, where no one can listen. The pounding in her head is loud as ever.

  


* * *

  


The next day when she woke up feeling better and less anxious she registered what her Father told her. _The outside_. The world beyond these faded walls, with colours brighter than the imagination and things that are so much more real than this empty space.

Lilac near vibrates with excitement and Miss Flu laughs as she tries to get her to settle down.

Two days later she sits in the spare guestroom, taking deep breaths and chewing her lip. She felt too nervous to eat breakfast, but Miss Flu convinced her to have a sandwich a few minutes before. She runs her hand over her braid and looks around.

The guest room on the first floor had been remodelled to be more comfortable, with two tall-backed armchairs on either side of a low coffee table. Curtains are tied back from the window and she can see the hedges in the front yard, as well as where Mr. Johnhan had been brought in on a carriage. There is some tasteful art on the walls, as well as two lanterns and a bookcase, so the room wouldn’t be so empty. Her Journal is on the table right in front of her.

It’s all light pink like her new dress. She feels like part of the décor. Her fingers fiddle with the cloth on her lap.

Her new dress, like all her dresses now, is shin length with three courter sleeves, the square neckline and the edges end in blue ribbons, and the sleeves are puffed out green fabric- maybe to make her slightly distinguishable from the furniture, she thinks.

A sort of belt is wrapped around her waist, and from it hangs a green and blue cloth with her symbol sewn into it in dark pink. The only part of her outfit she chooses every day is her socks, today being bright orange and knee-high. She has a special place in her heart for her bright socks, likely stemming from the fact Miss Flu is the one who gifts them to her.

Miss Flu isn’t here right now. Father would like her to not have anyone there who could learn what the customer’s readings say. Of course, he probably expects her to write them down and give him the papers anyway.

She waits nervously, and eventually, her Father comes in with an old man who looks like the wind will blow her over. He gives introductions, long and full of embellishment, then leaves. She sits down and waits for Mr. Johnhan to do the same.

He’s slow and huffs a little when he reaches the chair. He puts his wooden cane to the side and leans back.

She waits for him to say something. She doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do; should she start Reading right away or make conversation?

“You’re the new Seer, I hear.” Mr. Johnhan says low and gruff. Lilac gulps.

_ Conversation it is. _

“I’m am.” She nods. Then she congratulates herself, because _no stutter!_

“I hope you are as talented as your grandfather. I used to get Reading from him often, you know.” She doesn’t actually. “Is that s-so.” Right, good, that wasn’t too noticeable.

“It’s true. But since his unfortunate passing, I haven’t received anything.” He lowers his head respectfully and sinks a bit more into the chair. Lilac isn’t sure what to say, so she lets him go on.

Mr. Johnhan then smiles, “I didn’t think I’d get a Reading again in my lifetime, yet here we are.” Lilac smiles back uncertainly.

“Now, go on my dear,” He nods to the book. “Tell me what my future holds. My name is Marel Johnhan.”

Now that Lilac’s in semi-familiar territory, she actually knows what to do. She delicately picks up the Journal and takes care to open it smoothly. The more graceful she looks, the more experienced she’ll seem, Miss Flu told her.

She takes a few minutes to Read, a mere overview to save herself the headache, and Mr. Johnhan waits patiently. When Lilac’s done she blinks hard and resists the urge to rub her eyes. She puts the Journal down and he looks at her expectedly.

Lilac clears her throat. “Under the ground t-there lies p-p-precious stones. Many people want them, but only one owns the land. In his greed, he is not caut-tious, and the t-tunnels catch fire. The ground c-c-collapses. Much is lost.” She intones as smoothly as she can.

She feels like she failed when Mr. Johnhan stares at her, hard and intent. “Tell me more.” He says. Demands it, really.

She shakes her head slowly. “I c-c-can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t.”

Lilac won’t because her head is pounding again. She can’t because that’s as far as she can currently read. About a month into the future, she reckons. She chooses to go with the less provocative response.

“Can’t.”

He stares at her for a few moments longer, then sighs in disappointment. “Alright, I suppose. One can only ask for so much.” He smiles, and she tries to smile back. “I’ll have to see you again, dear.” He says.

She watches him stand, take his can, and hobble to the door. He stops and turns to nod goodbye to her. “Until we meet again.”

“Goodb-bye.”

He opens the door, closes it, and is gone. She lets go of a huge breath and slumps until her head touches her knees. _That was scary. That was so scary,_ she thinks to herself. She’d be so happy if she never had to do that again.

Miss Flu comes in quietly, carrying a tray with tea, and places it next to the Journal. She kneels next to Lilac and rubs her back.

“Well done,” Miss Flu praises her, encouraging Lilac to sit upright. “I just saw your father with Mr. Johnhan, and he looks awfully happy. I think he’ll be more susceptible to letting us into the garden.”

Lilac takes a calming breath and accepts the tea offered to her. Camomile. “Really?” She asks.

Miss Flu grins - much kinder and more welcoming than Mr. Johnhan. “I’m sure of it. Now drink fast so we can go. I’ve snuck some cookies into your room, and we don’t want them to get lonely, do we?” She whispers with a hand next to her mouth, looking around like someone might be listening in.

Lilac giggles. Miss Flu is her most favourite person in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're starting to get to the part that I'm super excited about. I can't wait!
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment and kudos on your way out! Also, save a life by washing your hands! Please and thank you!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man it's been a while! I blame my terrible attention span, other wring projects, and the hell load of schoolwork we et even tho we aren't at school.
> 
> Enjoy!

Lilac doesn’t think she’s ever been so excited. She’s going outside! She’s going to run on the grass and chase butterflies and get dirt all over herself, and it’s going to be fantastic!

“Alright, dear, I know you’re excited,” Miss Flu laughs, putting a few supplies in her bag. “But you have to calm down a little. We don’t want you to go bouncing out of the garden, do we? Why, you might bounce all the way to the moon if you do!” Miss Flu makes a playfully frightened face, hand over her mouth and everything.

Lilac giggles and shakes her head, “No Miss Flu, it-it’s the cow that d-does that.” She slides her shoes on over her knee-high socks- bright green today, to match the leaves.

Miss Flu’s eyes twinkle with amusement as she corrects her, “Not quite, dear. The cow jumps over the moon, but you’ll bounce to it, back, and then to it again!”

The two leave Lilac’s room still giggling, and make their way to the kitchen. Mr Sien hadn’t given her a key to the patio door, so they’ll have to walk around nearly a quarter of the house to reach the garden.

Lilac can hardly sit still while Miss Flu unlocks the door. She feels like she might buzz out of her skin if she doesn’t get outside _right now_. The clicks of the key moving the locks mechanisms seem to take longer than an old grandfather clock striking at the hour.

Miss Flu grabs her hand before she can bolt when the door opens.

“Not so hasty, now. You don’t know the path.” She chides. Lilac pouts, then becomes instantly entranced in but a moment.

It’s so _bright_ out here, in a different way than the light halls. More life than the washed-out husks she walks through daily. She almost feels overwhelmed.

The leaves that dance in a flurry with the wind and try to tug her hair along.

The grass that’s just long enough to scratch at her socks and invite her to play with it.

The sky that peeks through the trees, so, _so_ blue, begging her to reach up and touch it.

Dust floats in the yellow rays of sunlight spilling down on them, and Lilac doesn’t think she’s ever seen anything more beautiful.

She lets Miss Flu pull her to the garden, still the same as it was so long ago, and sits still in the cast iron chair while her teacher spreads her work out on the small table. Both of them know there’s no chance of her doing anything but staring at the gorgeous surroundings, but they must keep up appearance.

Miss Flu sits in the other chair and starts reciting the lecture they had yesterday. She adds random drivel and nonsense to keep herself entertained until their hour is finished.

“And that’s how mountains are formed, my dear. No matter what anyone says, it’s the giant lizards with the golden tails making piles of dirt for fun.” Miss Flu drawls, confident as you please, pointing at a random spot in the storybook disguised as a textbook she snuck in a while ago. Lilac has no idea why she didn’t think of doing the same with her old books.

The child nods agreeably, not taking in a word of what the old woman says. She’s too busy trying to memorize these sights for their next drawing session.

Miss Flu tilts her head and purses her lips, looking into the distance as she thinks, then says, “I’m fairly sure it’s the lizards who make volcanoes too. They play hide and seek by burrowing into the ground, and then fall asleep. They then turn into lava and get so irritated by it they pour out of the mountains. Very strange, but who are we to question the lizards?”

Lilac nods again. Her attention is now captured by a small insect fitting from one flower to the next. She wishes it would come closer so she could see it better, knowing at her lip to keep herself still.

Her teacher notices and takes a quick look at all the windows facing them. She then smiles, and leans forward to whisper, “Go on.”

Lilac looks at her nervously.

“Hurry, before someone checks on us,” She urges, nodding to the plants. Lilac waits no longer.

She nearly trips over herself to get there fast enough, and skids into the flowerbed. The dirt crumbles in her fingers, and she near shoves her face into the flowers. The smell so sweet, and the petals are softer than fabric against her nose. It’s wonderful.

She opens eyes that match the blooms in vibrancy and hopes this never ends.

* * *

Miss Flu wakes her up at the darkest point of the night, urging her to be quiet and put on her coat. Together they sneak out the kitchen door and find their way through the dark.

“We can’t use a candle,” Miss Flu whispers when she asks, hushed. “I’ve watched the guards’ cycles, and they shouldn’t be around right now, but we don’t want to take the chance.”

“Where are we g-going?” Lilac clings tight to her arm. It’s chillier than she thought it could be, and she can’t see anything.

“You’ll see in a moment.”

They don’t go to the garden like Lilac thought they might. Instead, Miss Flu leads her through two bushes and into a small opening in the trees. There’s a space above them that isn’t filled with tree branches. It’s only as big as her room, but it’s enough.

Lilac, for the first time in her life, sees the stars in all their glory. Miss Flu had chosen a cloudless night, after a week where Lilac didn’t have to read for anyone. The sky is unobstructed, her eyes are clear, and nothing fills her head right now but the blinding lights that shine so far away.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Miss Flu smiles. She lays out a blanket Lilac hadn’t noticed her carrying before and urges the child to lie down. She joins Lilac right after.

The night air is cold on her cheeks, and the ground is bumpy under the blanket. Lilac huddles into Miss Flu’s side.

“Did you know,” Miss Flu begins, looping a warm arm around her shoulders, “That there are stories about the stars? Countless little lights grouped into constellations and given purpose.”

Lilac moves her head to the teacher’s shoulder. “I know there are st-st-stories,” She answers, “B-B-but I don’t know them. T-Tell me?” Her eyes roll to the side to stare at Miss Flu, who gives her a gentle, pleased grin.

“Of course, dear,” She starts pointing and drawing lines into the air, and Lilac listens attentively.

* * *

Months pass in this new, exciting pattern. Every few days they are allowed to go to the garden, where Miss Flu and Lilac do some creative activities while pretending it's actually work. Drawing, writing, and creative storytelling.

Lilac is pretty sure the storytelling is Miss Flu’s favourite, on the same level as drawing. She tries to draw some of the things the woman describes, then pouts when it comes out rubbish. Miss Flu laughs and tells her she’ll show Lilac how to draw that day’s picture later.

Every few weeks they go stargazing. They can’t do it more often, to Lilac’s disappointment, because then they’d get caught, but it’s competing against the garden of her favourite thing to look at. Both of them have a type of magic that she doesn’t think anything else in her life could ever compete with.

She adores the stories Miss Flu tells her. Myths and legends, she calls them. Astraea, who’s scales fell nearby and became the Libra constellation. Orion who was killed by a scorpion and placed in the sky. Ursa Minor and Ursa Major, mother and son flung to the heavens for their safety.

The elderly woman tells Lilac she can make her own book to record the stories while she herself writes down any interesting things she finds in the journals.

Then Miss Flu has to leave for two weeks, to visit family.

“I’ll be back before you know it, dear.” Miss Flu comforts her, placing folded clothes into her satchel and tying her favourite orange apron over her dress. Lilac reluctantly hands Miss Flu her hat.

“But w-what will I do?” The child asks nervously, crunching her fingers into a stray piece of cloth. Big eyes stare helplessly at her, and Miss Flu sighs and sits on the bed. She urges Lilac to join her. “Oh darling,” She says, tucking a wild strand of hair behind Lilac’s ear. “There’s no need to be so anxious, I’m just visiting my sister. Her oldest is going to be a mother soon, and I want to congratulate them in person.”

Lilac leans her head into Miss Flu’s hand and is rewarded with her cheek being stroked with a thumb. “A baby?” She inquires.

“Yes, a very small baby with very big eyes. Bigger than yours, even!”

“Not pret-t-tier, though,” Lilac grins. Miss Flu snorts, pulling her in for a hug.

“Few have eyes like pink gems, my dear.”

Lilac is shown the list of tasks she is expected to have done by the time Miss Fluit returns and is surprised with the kitchen key being pressed into her palm.

“I hear there’s going to be a meteor shower in three days, and I know you wouldn’t want to miss it.” Miss Flu winks.

Lilac stood at the door with Miss Skoon and watched her go.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

She should have brought a light. Or a candle. Or even just a _firefly in a jar!_

_Pumf!_

Lilac scowls at the dirt that’s decided to have an intimate meeting with her face, then roughly picks herself up and continues trotting through the undergrowth. She has no idea where she currently is, but Lilac swears the plants just keep getting thicker.

She was so sure she took the right path to the opening, but it wasn’t this hard to get through before. It also didn’t have half as many roots for her to trip over. She might have to hide this dress until she can clean it without anyone knowing.

Lilac runs her hand over her face to wipe off the dirt, then scowls harder when she feels leaves in her hair. More investigation reveals it’s wiggled into her braid somehow too. _How wonderful_.

Her arms swing out to find some sort of handhold. Maybe if she waits it out then someone will come to find her. But that would get her locked in her room and Miss Flu fired, so maybe not.

With nothing else to do, she keeps walking.

Eventually Lilac comes to what she thinks is a wall. More walking and the fact there seems to be no end, window or door to it makes her think she’s reached the property wall. Which makes her wonder how far she’s walked. If her parents knew…

_Pmmf!_

“Aaargh!” Lilac snarls into the bush she is now acquainted with, spitting out leaves and yanking her hair away from clingy branches.

_I don’t need a candle! If Miss Flu can do it, so can I!_

She would _dearly_ like to go to her hours-younger self and shove her face into a flowerbed.

As Lilac pushes herself up once again, she realizes something. This bush is _awfully_ deep. Much deeper than it should be, considering the wall that is standing presumably behind it. Lilac carefully moves back until she’s sitting hunched over on her calves, and reaches her hands out.

A little in front of her she feels the wall. Moving her hands inwards, she feels a hole, or a gap, where something must have dug through. The lack of rubble or sharp edges, as well as the amount of foliage growing through it, means it must have been made a long time ago.

“Interesting,” Lilac murmurs, shoving her hands a little deeper. There are branches, and what is probably a spider web, but nothing so thick she can’t pull it away by hand. Lilac eyes gain a curious shine and a tilted smile comes to her lips. “ _Very_ interesting...”

How far can she go? Does it go completely to the other side?

She stares into the dark hole and chews her lip. Then leans back onto all fours and starts shuffling forward.

Only one way to find out! In she goes!

It goes well until what she thinks is about halfway through, where the hole gets abruptly smaller. Leaves and sticks occupy her way, these unfortunately so thick she can’t push them aside. She feels around until she finds a space she can belly-crawl through.

And…

She’s out.

…

It’s not much different from being inside the walls, and there isn’t anything around here but trees, trees and more trees. Lilac feels kinda disappointed. She debates going forward to see if she can find anything, but… yeah, maybe not today. She needs to get back, change her clothes, comb her hair, and pretend she has no idea what the wall even looks like.

She also needs to pretend the hole isn’t there. _No_ , not _hole_ , something as exciting as this needs a better name. So she’ll call it the… the crevice. Her own little passage to the world outside the manor. Further out than the garden and the road. Maybe even to the village, or city, or anywhere she wants!

But Lilac needs to pretend the crevice isn’t there, not telling anyone it exists. If she does, she’ll get in trouble, locked in the manor and the crevice will be sealed shut.

Lilac won’t tell Miss Flu when she comes back either. Just to be safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haven't gotten to the scene I've been excited for for months yet, but soon. My friends love it, i love it, and I'm hoping you'll love it too.
> 
> It seems Lilac has found herself a little escape route too. And such a nice one too. Fun fact, at the beginning i was just gonna have her climb over the wall, but why would you do that at the middle of the night, right? 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment and kudos on your way out and remember to cough into your elbow! See you next time!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long, I've been pretty busy with All That Glitters Must Be A Rock. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Lilac didn’t think she’d be back here again so soon, but her curiosity is stronger than her restraint. She finds herself facing the crevice in only two days, this time with a small candle in hand that she’s careful to keep low to the ground so no one spots her. It took a bit to navigate through the foliage, but it’s _so much_ _easier_ when she can actually see.

She crawls on her knees and one hand into the wall, sweeping the candle from side to side to see what she’s working with.

It’s just as she suspected last time, semi-smooth and not a pebble out of place to suggest it was dug anywhere near recently. Most of the branches grow on the sides like veins, and right at the end is where they grow from. Lilac closely inspects it, and sighs. She’ll have to sneak a knife out the kitchen and saw a larger space out later.

Taking special care not to set the leaves (or stars forbid, herself!) on fire, she shuffles under, through and out the wall.

The trees too are just like Lilac expected, but that’s fine, because she isn’t here to look at them. She’s here to explore a little further and see if she can find anything interesting. So she does.

Lilac spends the next few nights slowly making her way further and further from the wall, careful to not be caught. She listens to guards change shifts from under bushes, observes the trails they take, and scribble down the best paths to take and times to sneak out. It’s hard, and she’s almost tips someone off a few times, but she does it.

One late night, when the moon is high and everyone’s asleep, Lilac is exploring the forest with a small bag containing a pencil and her secret notebook, making rough drawings of the area. When she goes home she’ll properly redraw it, but she’ll need to ask Miss Flu to show her how to draw maps when she’s back.

A speck of light swipes past Lilac’s vision, and she looks up. What?

There! There it is! She tries to follow it, quick feet crushing blades of grass and twigs. The light flies behind a tree, then around, the towards her, then away!

She scrambles to follow the fast little light.

_Is it a firefly?_ She asks herself, hopping over some thick roots. _Or a will-o’-the-wisp?_ But the stories say those only exist in wet places, like swamps or bogs. This is a forest, Lilac thinks, then gasps.

_Is it a fairy?!_

She goes faster.

By now Lilac is running as fast as she can, stumbling over her own feet and the surroundings but refusing to give up. She wants to see that fairy, and she’s not slowing down until she does. And maybe if she asks really nicely it’ll let her draw it. She has her book and pencil, she can do something quick and then do it better later. Oh, this is so _exciting!_

She has no idea how long it is before she loses it, but by that point Lilac is folded over her knees, clutching her supplies and gasping. She’s never run that long before! She didn’t know it could make you this tired.

The child looks around as soon as she catches her breath, trying to spot the light again, but it’s long gone. She groans, “So c-close…” before straightening up and taking a deep breath. The cold air feels nice against her warm face.

It’s about time she goes back, Lilac grumbles, squinting at the stars through the trees. She can’t see the moon anywhere, and she needs to be back for breakfast at nine. Lilac flips open her book and turns around.

And turns.

And turns.

…Where is she?

Lilac slaps her forehead and scolds herself. Yes! Go run in the unfamiliar forest! Don’t draw a map! What a smart idea!

She sighs roughly, takes one more look around, then picks a random direction and starts walking. Moving around might get her more lost than she already is, but it’s better than just standing still waiting for the sun to rise.

Lilac has nothing to do right now but look at trees and think. So she walks and she thinks, although there isn’t anything in particular she wants to focus on. Maybe her schoolwork? Or her art? But those are things Lilac does all day, so nothing is interesting enough to be explored there. What doesn’t she usually consider?

… Her future reading.

It’s great she has such an ability, fantastic even, but the thought of something so- so _valuable_ , is daunting.

She knows it’s something she got from her father’s side, and she knows it makes him happy when she does a satisfactory job. All his friends and associates want her to read for them, and in exchange for money she does. And at the end of the day, her father gives Lilac a proud smile and allows her an extra hour in the garden.

It’s good when she makes her parents proud. Very good. She gets dresses and books and pencils and all the things she could ever need as long as she earns their approval, and Lilac always tries her best to achieve that.

But some days it feels so hard. Her head pounds and her eyes swerve, the walls close in until she feels like her room might crush her.

Garden access has made it so much better, but once Lilac got a taste of what is only inches of brick away from her reach, she couldn’t bring herself to be satisfied. _No_ , how can she go back to endlessly pale walls and a nonstop stream of work when the stars call out for her to join them?

Lilac looks up at the night sky, tinged grey where the sun is starting to rise. She can still see them twinkling at her, teasingly blinking in and out of existence like they’re playing a game.

_Oh, to play a game with the stars. To chase them forever, so close but never quite touching those sparks of brilliance that light up the darkest hours._

A delighted smile spreads across Lilac’s cheeks and a breathy laugh escapes her. _Oh, if only._

Tree leaves block her vision once more, but they don’t look like the others. Lilac let’s out a surprised and curious hum, then twists her head to see where she’s wandered. Scattered around her are trees with _white_ leaves.

But wait… She crouches and picks up one that seems to have fallen to the forest floor a while back. When Lilac squints to see it in the early morning light, she finds what she holds in her hand isn’t a leaf, but a blossom. Meaning _these_ must be fruit tress!

Lilac lets out a sound of wonder, holding the blossom close to smell it. It’s sweet, but holds the lingering scent of a discomposing plant.

The twelve-year-old twirls the petals as she considers. She wants to see a fresher blossom, and perhaps take it home and press it in a book, but those are still attached to the trees. There aren’t any branches she can reach growing them.

An idea comes to mind. Perhaps… yes, if she climbs a tree she might be able to get some. She’d even have her pick of the batch, and there’s still a while before she needs to get home.

Lilac nods her head decisively and places her bag in the crevice of a tree’s roots and looks for the perfect angle to climb from. One foot goes into a dip in the tree trunk while her hands stretch for a grip. It takes a lot of maneuvering and what might be a pulled muscle, but soon Lila is sitting comfortably on a branch about a meter and a half off the ground.

She scoops to where a fresh clump of blossoms awaits her, and carefully picks out the biggest and most perfect ones to take home. She lets them flutter down to her bag and nods happily at her hard earned prize.

Now just to get down and collect them.

…She has no idea how to get down.

_Twice in a row? Really?_ Lilac’s palm meets her forehead, and she sighs heavily. One peek from between her fingers has her tightening her legs around the branch, because that? Is an awfully far way to the ground. Very, _very_ far.

How does she get down?

Lilac carefully throws one leg over the branch, then again, doing an about-face and scooting to the trunk. She gives the bark a puzzled frown, then awkwardly hugs the tree and tries finding places to put her feet.

Her shoes slip, and so does she.

A loud yelp escapes Lilac as she tightens her grip, and decides climbing is a very terrible idea.

The sun is starting to properly peek into the sky. Nervous static goes through her limbs.

_Well, when all else fails._ Lilac takes a deep breath, then starts calling, “H-Help! S-someone, help!”

It must be at least fifteen minutes that Lilac sits there, shouting in hopes someone will hear her. Just when her voice starts feeling sore, her knight in shining armour arrives.

“He-!”

“Quit yer screaming, I’m coming!” Lilac startles and swerves around, looking for her saviour.

“Over here!”

She twists, hugging the tree to safely look around it, and spots the source of the voice.

The person stands not too far away from Lilac, looking to be an orange haired girl around her height, and likely age. She’s wearing brown shorts and a green shirt with a cat face on it, and Lilac can spot gloves nestle in her crossed arms. Squinted eyes and pulled back lips tell Lilac she’s not very happy.

The girl frowns harder.

“ _Well?_ ” The girl says irritably. “What’s the problem?”

“Um- I-” Lilac stutters. The girl taps her foot impatiently. “I-I’m st-stuck. Help, p-please.”

The girl gives her the most unimpressed look Lilac has ever seen, slumping shoulders and tilted head accentuating how drooped the corners of her mouth become. Full body disappointment.

_That’s a lot of expression,_ Lilac thinks, then squeaks when the girl suddenly marches to the tree and looks up at her. Her eyebrows rise at Lilac disheveled appearance.

“Are ya serious?” She snorts, “That’s gotta be the easiest tree to climb around here, just come down.”

“I-I d-don’t know how.”

“Then jump!” The girl moves back and gestures to the ground.

“But it’s s-so high!”

“Ya ain’t any higher than you’d be on a horse.”

“I-I-I-” Lilac squeaked, glancing down to the ground, and _had it gotten further away?_ No, no, _absolutely_ not! She’d break a bone if she tried that!

The girl looks even more unimpressed, if possible. However, her impatient stare turns softer when she sees Lilac’s face twist in fear. She slumps and sighs, “Alright, no need to panic. I’ll get ya down from there.”

The girl starts circling the tree, considering the best route to take. Lilac tries to watch her, but her vision is slightly impaired by the tree in front of her and the fact her head can’t turn 180 degrees.

The girl stops, scratches her head and grumbles something under her breath. Lilac wonders if she should say something, but then the girl’s attention turns to her again.

“Ya know what?” The girl asks, then continues before Lilac can answer, “If you’re that scared I’ll catch ya, yeah? Just jump.” She positions herself under Lilac, holding her arms out. Lilac gulps.

She asks, “You promise?” What if the girl drops her? Or misses? No, what if she lands on the girl and huts her?! Lilac isn’t sure if she should do this. Perhaps she should just stay in the until she can climb down by herself. There are flowers, and the girl might be able to throw her some food- it might not be a bad idea.

The girl interrupts her inner tangent, “Yeah, whatever. Now hurry up!”

“Alr-right. Here I- uh, go,” Lilac takes a deep, steadying breath. If the girl insists, then she might as well try.

Lilac swings her leg over the branch again, turning to face the girl, then carefully scoots more and more off the branch. A tiny bit, shaky push and- she falls. Right into the girl’s arms.

Then right on top of the girl as the force sends them both to the ground.

“Oomph!” “Ow!”

Static buzzes through her limbs, taking a detour through her pounding heart and making itself in home in her head. She’s gasping from the breath being knocked out of her, and she hears the girl do the same. She’s also being pushed.

“Get off ‘a me!” Lilac half-rolls, and is half-shoved to the side, and scrambles to sit up. “I’m so s-s-sorry! Please forg-give me, I-I-” She scrambles to apologize, leaning over the girl and wringing her hands. The girl, still sprawled on the ground, places her hand over lilac’s face. Lilac stalls.

“I hear ya, _calm down_.” She huffs. Her hand leaves Lilac, and she can properly see the girl now that she’s face to face with her. “We ain’t hurt, so it’s fine.”

The girl has a light smattering of freckles, a straight nose, thin lips, and chocolate brown eyes squint out at her from between long eyelashes. She has a slightly sleepy, or lazy look about her, but her most distinctive features are her bright orange-brown hair and the scar nicking the top of her left ear.

“So, what’s a girl like you doing in the middle of my trees?” She asks Lilac, sitting up and tilting her head.

“Excuse me?” Lilac blinks. This girl looks no older than her, how can these trees be hers?

The girl stands up, and Lilac almost trips over her dress to follow. “Ya heard me. This is Leeu family property, and you’ve been climbing one of my trees.” She points over Lilac’s shoulder. She then puts her hands on her hips, leaning in, “And you’re obviously a wealthy gal, so there ain’t no reason for ya to be frolicking ‘round here. So why are you?”

Lilac takes a step back at the girl looms closer. “Well, you-you see,” The girl comes ever closer, and as Lilac back up her foot bumps into cloth. Her bag. Right, that’s why she’s here.

“I-I’m a b-bit lost,” Lilac confesses. The girl backs off, but raises an eyebrow. She gestures with her hand for Lilac to continue.

“I was exp-p-ploring, but then I lost my-my way. I wondered here on acci-accident.”

“In the middle of the night, and into my tree.” Oh no, she’s unimpressed again.

Lilac blushes and folds her hands in her lap. “Yes,” She nods.

They stare at each other- or rather, the girl stares at Lilac and Lilac stares at the ground by the girl’s feet. She’s wearing nice, sturdy boots, if scuffed up.

The girl clicks her tongue. “ _Alright_ then. Ya need help finding your way?” She asks.

“Yes, please.” Lilac murmurs.

“Get your stuff then, and tell me where you’re tryin’ to get.”

The girl listens as Lilac describes the wall, and Lilac kneels to get her bag and carefully collect the flowers she plucked.

“Hold up a tick, did you get those from the tree?” The girl asks incredulously. Lilac stands and eyes her. “Yes?” She loops the bag over her head and leaves it to hang at her waist. “I’ve never s-seen these, and they’re very beaut-tiful.”

Eyebrows furrow, and the girl sounds irritated as she explains, “These are apple trees, and those were gonna be apples. You can’t just go pickin’ someone else’s produce.”

Lilac rubs her arm sheepishly, “O-oh. I didn’t know that.”

“Clearly.”

The girl is silent as she leads Lilac to the wall. Lilac hadn’t told her where specifically to take her, because she would rather no one know about the crevice. She figures she can trail along the wall until she finds it herself, then creep in through the kitchen while the maids deliver food to the gardener. It’s still early enough that her parent won’t be out of their room, and the guards are more relaxed and tired once the sun rises.

She’ll have to hide her dress, though. It’s absolutely wrecked, full of splinters and stains, as well as a tear or two she has no idea how to explain to her parents. Best pray her mother doesn’t notice a dress missing from the closet.

They make their way to the wall eventually, and Lilac is surprised at the shortness of the walk. It was about half an hour, and Lilac wonders just how lost she was.

“We’re here,” The girl declares, gesturing needlessly to the wall.

“I see,” Lilac nods, demonstrating the fact she has no idea what else to say. So she just stands there, worrying her lip between her teeth.

“This as far ya wanna go?”

“Yes, t-thank you.”

The girl nods, the turns. “Fantastic. If that’s all, I’ll be leaving. It was nice to meet ya.” She starts walking away.

Lilac panics for reasons she can’t point out, and calls, “Wait!”

The girl stops, and looks over her shoulder. “Yeah…?”

Lilac stalls for a moment, then, “May I see you again?” That… is not what she meant to ask. _Oh no. What is she doing?_

“I don’t know, we don’t hang out in the same crowds,” the girl points out. Lilac’s face goes red.

“Just- uh, one d-day. P-please.”

“… yeah, sure. One day.” The girl walks again.

“And-”

“Oh, what _now?_ ” She’s starting to look very aggravated, better hurry up.

“Your name,” Lilac requests. “My name is Lilac S-Sien. Yours?”

The girl blinks, tilts her head, then answers, “Alie Leeu. Goodbye now.”

“Ah, g-goodbye!”

And the girl is gone. Lilac stares into the trees, then jolts as she realizes she needs to go. It wouldn’t do be caught now, when she’s finally gone so far out. She also needs to press the flowers before they wilt.

_Alie…_ Oh, Lilac can’t _wait_ to see her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alie’s heeerrreee! Yay! I was so excited for this chapter, guys! Cause, look! Another character!
> 
> Can you tell I have no idea how accents work? Alie is half-inspired by Applejack from My Little Ponies, because she’s awesome, but who knows if I can get her speech pattern down? Oh well, that’s what research and practice are for.
> 
> I don't really have much to say today, so please leave a comment and kudos on your way out! I'd love to hear from you! And remember to moisturize your hands too, so they don't dry out!!
> 
> See you next time!

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my oc for Kingdom Hearts. I'm slightly afraid at how she'll be received, cause she kinda looks like a mary sue, but I didn't want her to look like every other Oc. I figured if I'm making her unique, sky's the limit, right?  
> I tried to write Lilac as she currently is, a five-year-old, and hope very much it's accurate. Things are pretty dim right now for her, but fear not! They will get better! Thank you for reading and i hope you stick around for the next chapter.  
> Please comment, kudos, and feel free to give criticism and tips! I love when I can improve my writing!


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